CHAP. LI.

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He is laid up in Oxford-Goal by his Host, he is cheated at Chester; and after some time is ransomed thence by some of his Comrades, Knights of the Road, they paying his Debts.

Our Crew having been abroad, we had got a valuable Purchase; which after we had divided, I told them, that I would but visit a friend at Oxford, and repair to them again within two or three days. My old Acquaintance being overjoy’d to see me, after so long absence, treated me very gallantly, introducing me into the society of the Wits; who would frequently drink too, till they had lost them. The Company pleased me so well, that I thought it a solecism in civility to be sober, when they made any appointment for mirth; and they being true Bacchanalians, in the uppermost Classes of Aristippus’s School, scorn’d to be outvy’d by a junior Sophister; and therefore, do what I could, they would be drunk before me: they never contended about any argument that tended to ebriety, but swallowed them all. I thought they would never have done speaking of Sack; every one endeavouring who should express most in its praise. One said, That Diogenes was but a dry fellow; and the only reason he could give for it, was, That it is shrewdly suspected by the Commentators on his Tub, that that wooden-house of his was given him by a Beer-brewer, who being a enemy to all good wits and learning, gave him this Cask, which formerly had contained that pernicious liquor, Beer, that by the meer scent he might destroy his understanding. But Bacchus is so witty a Philosopher, that he never fails, night nor day, to pour forth his instructions, till he hath filled his auditors out of measure; it is he that makes us speak fluently, and utter our minds in abundance: for my part, I am commonly so overjoyed in his company, that I have often feared I should never be my own man again. Said another, It is Sack was the Promethean fire, not stoln from Jove’s Kitchin, but his Wine-cellar, to increase the native heat, without which we are but cold clay; but that celestial liquor applyed even to the dead, will cause a revivification: this is it which gave Ganymede beauty, and Febe youth. Can you think, that ever Aristotle would have been taken notice of, had he drank Ale or Beer; or, that Alexander’s conquests had been heard of, had he been sober? therefore to make his Captains famous to posterity, he taught them how to muster Quarts and Pottles, and by accustoming them to be dead-drunk, shewed them the way to contemn death. All this is true (said another, so drunk, that what he spake could hardly be understood) but pray take my opinion with you too: do not all light things ascend? what better way is there to understand high matters, then a light head? Copernicus by the lightness of his head, claimed alliance with heaven, and by that first found out the motion of the earth; which he could never have done, had not Sack been his instructor. Hence grew the Proverb, In vino veritas, as if Sack were the only Butt truth shoots at, the piercing of which causeth the other to be drawn out with it. For my part Gentlemen, said I, my passion was never more stirred then the other day, comming by a red-lettice, unto which I have a natural antipathy: there did I hear a Tapster aver, that Helicon was nothing more then an Hogs-head of March-beer, and that Pegasus was anciently a Dray-horse; and then speaking of French wine, in derision, called him frisking Monsieur; and the Spanish, Don Rhodomontado; swearing that if ever he met with either, he would challenge all the Drawers in the Town to dash him as he would. Then tumbling out two or three small-beer oaths, he wisht that he might never look through his red-lettice Percullice, if he did not verily believe he should see Monsieur burn’d with a pox to him, and Spanish Don mull’d to death with butter and eggs.

It is a thing beyond my reason,
That we strong Ale for Sack should quit,
Since ’twould have blown us up by treason,
Had not Ale bestirr’d our wit:
Then give us Ale, but banish Sack;
That Spanish Don must have the rack.

I could do no less for his malepertness, but broach his Hogs-head, which to convince him of his error, ran Terse Claret: I heard afterwards, this accident converted the Infidel. We spun out various discourses of this nature, as long as we could see, and then each man reel’d to his respective lodging. The next morning, walking abroad to finde out some of my last nights associates, unfortunately my Chester-Landlord (who having some business to do in Oxford, was newly come thither to dispatch it) espy’d me, and without accosting me (like a subtile Sophister) watcht me whither I went: being housed, he presently fetcht two Officers, and coming out into the street napt me. I sent to those friends that had been so merry with me ever since my coming to that City; but they understanding the business, came not neer me; one pretending indisposition of body; another, that he was not within; a third, that he was about urgent occasions, which having finisht, he would wait upon me; but in fine, none came to my relief, shewing themselves right pot-companions, whose courtesies it may be, shall extend to the payment of a Reckoning, when their friend wants it to discharge it himself; but disappear and vanish, when their assistance is implored to draw him out of Prison. Seeing no remedy, I patiently suffer’d my self to be confined. My adversary visiting me, I treated with him about my releasment, offering him what I had, which was neer upon half; but his resolution was to have all, or there I must lie. Though I could not much condemn him, yet I could not but complain against the inconstancy of Fortune; and ruminating within my mind the miseries that attend all sorts of prisons, I judged that of Debt to be the most deplorable; and though I wanted liberty, which commonly doth depress the mind, yet by the vertue of Canary (which I could not be without) my fancy scorned to be fetter’d, but would in spite of fate, use her freedom. ’Tis some kind of pleasure and comfort, for a man sometimes in adversity, to descant on his own miserable condition; which because I found experimentally true, I applied my self to my usual custom, the use of my pen, differencing these Metropolitan Prisons thus:

To Bedlam men are sent bereft of wit;
When ’tis restored, then they are freed from it:
Confin’d to Newgate long, men can’t complain,
For once a month they’re cleer’d from it and pain;
In a short time their Bolts wear off, and then
They may be sure ne’re to come there agen;
Discharged thence their fettered souls shall be,
Only an hour confin’d, and then set free.
Bridewell, no wiseman yet did e’re dispraise thee,
For thou dost feed the poor, correct the lazy;
The expiration of a little time,
Forgives offenders, and forgets their Crime.
Hereafter from the Prison, Heav’n defend me;
Rather to Bedlam, Newgate, Bridewel, send me;
For there Wit, Work, or Law doth set men free,
Nothing but Money here gets liberty.

Having lain here above a week, I sent away a Letter to my Brethren, informing them of my misfortune, and acquainting them with the sum I was imprisoned for; which was sent me by them, and brought by one of our trusty Knights: paying my Debts and Fees, I returned again to them.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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