Phil. But this Art is what we Dullards call Theft; who call a Fig a Fig, and a Spade a Spade.

Pseud. O Ignoramus in the Law!  Can you bring an Action of Theft for Trover or Conversion, or for one that having borrow’d a Thing forswears it, that puts a Trick upon one, by some such Artifice?

Phil. He ought to be sued for Theft.

Pseud. Do but then see the Prudence of Artists.  From these Methods there is more Gain, or at least as much, and less Danger.

Phil. A Mischief take you, with your cheating Tricks and Lies, for I han’t a Mind to learn ’em.  Good by to ye.

Pseud. You may go on, and be plagu’d with your ragged Truth.  In the mean Time, I’ll live merrily upon my thieving, lying Tricks, with Slight of Hand.

The SHIPWRECK.

The ARGUMENT.

Naufragium exposes the Dangers of those that go to Sea; the various and foolish Superstition of Mariners.  An elegant Description of a Storm.  They indeed run a Risque that throw their valuable Commodities into the Sea.  Mariners impiously invoke the Virgin Mary, St. Christopher, and the Sea itself.  Saints are not to be pray’d to, but God alone.

ANTONY and ADOLPH.

Ant. You tell dreadful Stories:  Is this going to Sea?  God forbid that ever any such Thing should come into my Mind.

Adol. That which I have related, is but a Diversion, in Comparison to what you’ll hear presently.

Ant. I have heard Calamities enough already, my Flesh trembles to hear you relate them, as if I were in Danger myself.

Adol. But Dangers that are past, are pleasant to be thought on.  One thing happen’d that Night, that almost put the Pilot out of all Hopes of Safety.

Ant. Pray what was that?

Adol. The Night was something lightish, and one of the Sailors was got into the Skuttle (so I think they call it) at the Main-Top-Mast, looking out if he could see any Land; a certain Ball of Fire began to stand by him, which is the worst Sign in the World to Sailors, if it be single; but a very good one, if double.  The Antients believed these to be Castor and Pollux.

Ant. What have they to do with Sailors, one of which was a Horseman, and the other a Prize-Fighter?

Adol. It was the Pleasure of Poets, so to feign.  The Steersman who sat at the Helm, calls to him, Mate, says he, (for so Sailors call one another) don’t you see what a Companion you have by your Side?  I do see, says he, and I pray that he may be a lucky one.  By and by this fiery Ball glides down the Ropes, and rolls itself over and over close to the Pilot.

Ant. And was not he frighted out of his Wits?

Adol. Sailors are us’d to terrible Sights.  It stopp’d a little there, then roll’d itself all round the Sides of the Ship; after that, slipping through the Hatches, it vanished away.  About Noon the Storm began to increase.  Did you ever see the Alps?