I answered that what I had written was not mine own invention but extracted from other books to give me some practice in writing. “Yes, yes,” says he, “of course I am pleased to believe it: yet may you be sure I know more of your honour than he conceives.” At these words I was dismayed and thought, “Hath a little bird told thee?” But he, seeing how I changed colour, went on to say, “Ye are lively and young, idle and handsome. Ye do live a careless life, and as I hear in all luxury: therefore do I beseech you in the Lord and exhort you to consider in what an evil case you stand: beware of the beast with the long hair, if you have any care for your happiness and health. Ye may perhaps say, ‘How concerneth it the priest what I do or not?’ (‘Rightly guessed,’ said I to myself) or, ‘What right hath he to command me?’ ’Tis true I have but the care of souls: but, sir, be assured that your temporal good, as that of my benefactor, is for mere Christian love as precious as if ye were mine own son. ’Tis ever a pity, and never can ye answer such a charge before your heavenly Father if ye do bury the talent He hath entrusted to you and leave to go to ruin that noble understanding which I do perceive in this your writing. My faithful and fatherly advice would be, ye should employ your youth and your means, which ye now do waste in such purposeless wise, to study, that some day ye may be helpful to God and man and yourself; and let war alone, in which, as I do hear, ye have so great a delight; and before ye get a shrewd knock and find the truth of that saying, ‘Young soldiers make old beggars.’ ” This predication I listened to with great impatience, for I was not used to hear the like: yet I showed not how I felt, lest I should forfeit my reputation for politeness, but thanked him much for his straightforwardness and promised him to reflect upon his advice: yet thought I within myself, what did it concern the priest how I ordered my life; for just then I was at the height of my good fortune, and I could not do without those pleasures of dalliance I had once enjoyed. So is it ever with such warnings, when youth is unaccustomed to bit and bridle, and gallops hard away to meet destruction.
XX
How He Gave the Faithful Priest Other Fish to Fry, to Cause Him to Forget His Own Hoggish Life
Yet was I not so drowned in lust nor so dull as not to take care to keep all men’s affection so long as I was minded to sojourn in that fortress, that is, till winter was over. And I knew well what trouble it might breed for a man if he should earn the ill will of the clergy, they being folk that in all nations, no matter of what religion they be, enjoy great credit; so I put on my considering cap, and the very next day I betook myself hotfoot to the said pastor, and told him in fine words such a heap of lies, how I had resolved to follow his advice, that he, as I could see from his carriage, was heartily rejoiced thereat.
“Yea,” said I, “up till this time, yea and in Soest also, there was wanting for me nothing but such an angelic counsellor as I have found in your reverence. Were but the winter over, or at least the weather better, so that I could travel hence!” And thereafter I begged him to assist me with his advice as to which University I should attend. To that he answered, himself had studied in Leyden, but he would counsel to go to Geneva, for by my speech I must be from the High Germany. “Jesus Maria!” said I, “Geneva is farther from my home than Leyden.” “Can I believe mine ears?” says he, “ ’tis plain your honour is a Papist! Great Heavens, how am I deceived!” “How so, Pastor?” said I, “must I be a Papist because I will not to Geneva?” “Nay,” says he, “but ye do call upon the name of Mary!” “How,” said I, “is’t not well for a Christian to name the mother of his Redeemer?” “True,” says he, “yet would I counsel your honour and beg of him as earnestly as I can to give honour to God only and further to tell me plainly to what religion he belongs, for I doubt much if he be Evangelical (though I have seen him every Sunday in my church), inasmuch as at this last Christmastide he came not to the table of the Lord neither here nor in the Lutheran church.” “Nay,” said I, “but your reverence knows well that I am a Christian: were I not, I had not been so oft at the preaching: but for the rest, I must confess that I follow neither Peter nor Paul, but do believe simply all that the twelve articles of the Christian faith do contain: nor will I bind myself to either party till one or the other shall bring me by sufficient proofs to believe that he, rather than the other, doth possess the one true religion of salvation.” Thereupon, “Now,” says he, “do I truly, and that for the first time, understand that ye have a true soldier’s spirit, to risk your life here, there and everywhere, since ye can so live from day to day without religion or worship and can so risk your
