The other noble Scholars arrived shortly afterwards. They are all very memorablie famose. Mr Meldreth, a sweet, shy gentleman the colour of dust, is for Insects and haz 237 dead ones in a box. Mr Shepreth haz discovered the date upon which the Citie of London waz first built. This, being like to its Birthe-daye, haz enabled him to caste its horoscope: he knowes all its Future. Dr Foxton haz shewne by Irrefutable Arguments that Cornishmen are a kind of Fishe. His beard curies naturallie – a certaine sign of witt.
All winter the Learned Conversation of the Scholars delighted Sir John extreamlie. But it is part of Sir John's Affliction that whatever pleases him best at first, he most detests at last. In spring he began privately to calle them Raskall-Jacks, Rumble-Guts, Drunke, Ungrateful; complain'd that they ate too much, despis'd their Learning and frowned very blacke upon them at dinner until the poore Scholars had scarcelie anie Appetite to eate so much as a bit of Breade and all satt with a kinde of Lownesse on their Spirits. Summer came againe and it waz almost a yeare since Sir John and I were married. I tried very hard to conjure a cunning Scheme out of my Head but could think of nothing until the verie last daie.
Upon that daie the Scholars and I were sitting together beneathe the great Beeche-tree which stands before the dore of Pipers Hall.
Mr Meldreth sighed. "Gentlemen," he sayz, "We are very poor physick. Poor Sir John is as unhappy as ever he waz."
"True," sayz Mr Shepreth, "but we have made Lady Sowreston…" (he meant me) "… very merry. She loves to heare our Learned Conversation."
"There is no merit in that," sayz Mr Aubrey, "Miranda is alwaies merry."
"Mr Aubrey," sayz I.
"Yes, Miranda?" sayz he.
"'Tis a very curious thinge, Mr Aubrey," sayz I. "I have lived all my life neare Lickerish Hill, but I never once sawe a Pharisee."
"A Pharisee?" sayz Mr Aubrey, "What doe you meane, child?"
"They live on Lickerish Hill," sayz I, "Or under it. I doe not know which. They pinche dairymaides blacke and blewe. Other times they sweepe the floor, drinke the creame and leave silver pennies in shoes. They putte on white cappes, crie Horse and Hattock, flie through the aire on Bitts of Strawe – generally to the Kinge of France's wine-cellar where they drinke the wine out of silver cups and then off to see a wicked man hanged – which person they may save if they have a minde to it."
"Oh!" sayz Dr Foxton, "'Tis Fairies she meanes."
"Yes," sayz I. "That is what I sayd. Pharisees. I have never seen one. Dr Quince haz told me that they are not so common as once they were. Dr Quince haz told me that the Pharisees are leaving and will never more be seen in England. For my-selfe I never sawe one. But many Ancient Persons worthy of Belief have seen them on Lickerish Hill, trooping out of the World on Ragged Ponies, their heads bowed downe with Sadnesse, descending into dark hollows and blewe shadowes betwixt the trees. My Opinion is," sayz I, "that there can be no better taske for an Antiquarie than to discouver all he can of the Pharisees and I thinke there can be no better place in all the World to look for Pharisees than Pipers Hall under Lickerish Hill, for that is where they live. Mr Aubrey," sayz I, "Doe you know anie Spells to conjure Pharisees?"
"Oh, severall!" sayz Mr Aubrey, "Mr Ashmole (who is a noble Antiquary and haz made the Collection at Oxford) haz putt them downe in his Papers."
"Mr Aubrey," sayz I.
"Yes, Miranda?" sayz he.
"Will you shew me the Spells, Mr Aubrey?"
But before he could answer me Mr Meldreth ask'd with a Frowne if they worked?
"I doe not knowe," sayz Mr Aubrey.
"Who shall we conjure first?" askes Dr Foxton.
"Titania," sayz Mr Shepreth.
"A common Pharisee," sayz I.
"Why, Miranda?" askes Mr Shepreth.
"Oh!" sayz I, "they can doe a hundred clever thinges. Bake cakes, gather in flockes of sheepe, churne butter, spinne flax…"
All the Scholars laugh't very much at this.
"So can your mayde, Miranda," sayz Mr Shepreth. "No, 'tis fairie politics we chiefly wish to learn. And for this purpose the Queen is best. Besides," sayz Mr Shepreth, "she may give us presents."
"Tut," sayz Mr Meldreth, "'Tis onlie young men with handsome faces that she woos with presents."
"We are handsome enough," sayz Mr Shepreth.
Dr Foxton sayd that it waz one of the many inconveniences of discoursing with Fairies, that they may at anie moment disappear and so the gentlemen agreed to draw up a list of questions – so that when they discouvered a Fairie willing to speak to them all pertinent questions should be convenient to hand.
Quaere: if the Faeries have anie Religion among them?
Oh! sayd Dr Foxton, there waz a Fairie-woman in Cornwall who heard a Reverend gentleman saying his prayers. She asked him if there were salvation and eternal life for such as shee? No sayd the Reverend gentleman. With a cry of despair she instantly threw herself over a cliff and into the foaming sea. This, sayd Dr Foxton, he gott from a very Pious person who all his life abhorred Lying. Dr Foxton sayd he would not believe it else and Mr Meldreth, who is of a sweet and gentle nature, wept a little to think on't.
Quaere: if they have anie marrying among them?
Mr Shepreth sayd he believed they did not live together like Christians and turtle-doves, but had all their ladyes in common. Tut! sayz Mr Meldreth. Ha! cried Mr Aubrey and wrote it down very fast.
Quaere: if it is true (as some people say) that they are a much-decayed people and not so strong as they used to be?
Quaere: their system of Gouvernment: if a Monarchie or a Commonwealthe?
Quaere: if a Monarchie then whether it is true (as we have heard tell) that the Queen and King of the Pharisees have quarrelled?
Quaere: if it is true that the Queen cannot in one thinge gouverne herselfe?
This went on until the Scholars all fell a-quarrelling, having now gott fortie-two questions to ask the poor Pharisee when would trie to reduce the number.
"Here is Sir John Sowreston!" whispers Dr Foxton. "Mr Aubrey!" sayz I. "Yes, Miranda?" sayz he.
But I had no time to aske him what I wished because Sir John hurried me into the howse.
"Oh, my deare," sayz I to Sir John, "What is the matter? Do not let the noble Scholars see you looke so Melancholie! They still hope to chear you."
"Where are we going, Sir John?" sayz I. "I never sawe this little staircase before. Is it some secret place that you discouvered when you played here as a boye? Is that what you wishe to shew me?"
"I never saw this room before," sayz I, "And here are your three goode dogges, fighting with each other for some bones. Sir John, doe such great big dogges like to be shutt up in such a little room? And what is this little spinning wheele for?"
"Miranda," sayz Sir John, "You are very younge and for that reason I have often gouverned my-selfe when I should be angrie. Your lookes are often insolent. Your speech is full of Conceit and not womanly."
"Oh no, my deare!" sayz I, "You mistake. Those are lovinge lookes I give you."
"Perhaps," sayz he. "I doe not know. Sometimes, Miranda, I half-believe… But then againe, all men lye – and all women too. They drinke in Lyes with their mother's milke. As little children they delight to bear false witness one against the other. The Lyes and deceits that are practised on me every day by the common sort of people…" (He meant our Servants, Neighbours, Lawyers, Relations, etc., etc.) "… pricke my flesh like the stinges of bees and mosquitos. I scarcelie regard them. But a Lye from you, Miranda, will be a long, sharp sworde that slippes between my bones and cuttes my Heart. You swore when you married me that you could spinne five skeins of flax every daye for a month…"