Of saluting by another.

Remember my hearty Love to Frobenius. Be sure to remember my Love to little Erasmus. Remember me to Gertrude's Mother with all imaginable Respect; tell them I wish 'em all well. Remember me to my old Companions. Remember me to my Friends. Give my Love to my Wife. Remember me to your Brother in your Letter. Remember my Love to my Kinsman. Have you any Service to command by me to your Friends?

Ans. Tell them I wish them all heartily well.

Sal. Have you any Recommendations to send by me to your Friends?

Ans. Much Health to them all, but especially to my Father.

Sal. Are there any Persons to whom you would command me any Service?

Ans. To all that ask how I do. The Health you have brought from my Friends to me, carry back again with much Interest. Carry my hearty Service to all them that have sent their Service to me. Pray do so much as be my Representative in saluting my Friends. I would have written to my Son in Law, but you will serve me instead of a Letter to him.

Sal. Soho, soho, whither are you going so fast?

Ans. Strait to Louvain.

Sal. Stay a little, I have something to send by you.

Ans. But it is inconvenient for a Footman to carry a Fardel? What is it?

Sal. That you recommend me to Goclenius, Rutgerus, John Campensis, and all the Society of Trilinguists.

Ans. If you put nothing into my Snapsack but Healths, I shall carry them with Ease.

Sal. And that you may not do that for nothing, I pray that Health may be your Companion both going and coming back.

How we ought to congratulate one that is return'd from a Journey.

We are glad you are come well Home. It is a Pleasure that you are come Home safe. It is a Pleasure to us that you are come well Home. We congratulate your happy Return. We give God Thanks that you are come safe Home to us. The more uneasy we were at the Want of you, the more glad we are to see you again. We congratulate you and ourselves too that you are come Home to us alive and well. Your Return is the more pleasant by how much it was less expected.

Ans. I am glad too that as I am well myself I find you so. I am very glad to find you in good Health. I should not have thought myself well come Home if I had not found you well; but now I think myself safe, in that I see you safe and in good Health.

* * * * *

A Form of asking Questions at the first meeting.

The ARGUMENT.

This Colloquy teaches Forms of enquiring at the first meeting. Whence come you? What News bring you? How do you do? &c.

GEORGE, LIVINUS.

George. Out of what Hen-Coop or Cave came you?

Liv. Why do you ask me such a Question?

Ge. Because you have been so poorly fed; you are so thin a Body may see thro' you, and as dry as a Kecks. Whence came you from?

Liv. From Montacute College.

Ge. Then sure you are come loaden with Letters for us.

Liv. Not so, but with Lice I am.

Ge. Well then you had Company enough.

Liv. In truth it is not safe for a Traveller now a Days to go without Company.

Ge. I know well enough a Louse is a Scholar's Companion. Well but do you bring any News from Paris?

Liv. Ay, I do, and that in the first Place that I know you won't believe. At Paris a Bete is wise, and an Oak preaches.

Ge. What's that you tell me?

Liv. That which you hear.

Ge. What is it I hear?

Liv. That which I tell you.

Ge. O monstrous! Sure Mushrooms and Stones must be the Hearers where there are such Preachers.

Liv. Well, but it is even so as I tell you, nor do I speak only by hear say, but what I know to be true.

Ge. Sure Men must needs be very wise there where Betes and Oaks are so.

Liv. You are in the right on't.

* * * * *

Of enquiring concerning Health.

Ge. Are you well?

Liv. Look in my Face.

Ge. Why do you not rather bid me cast your Water? Do you take me for a Doctor? I don't ask you if you are in Health, for your Face bespeaks you so to be; but I ask you how you like your own Condition?

Liv. I am very well in my Body, but sick in my Mind.

Ge. He's not well indeed that is sick in that Part.

Liv. This is my Case, I'm well in my Body, but sick in my Pocket.

Ge. Your Mother will easily cure that Distemper. How have you done for this long Time?

Liv. Sometimes better, and sometimes worse, as human Affairs commonly go.

Ge. Are you very well in health? Are your Affairs in a good Condition? Are your Circumstances as you would have them? Have you always had your Health well?

Liv. Very well, I thank God. By God's Goodness I have always had my Health very well. I have always been very well hitherto. I have been in very good, favourable, secure, happy, prosperous, successful, perfect Health, like a Prince, like a Champion, fit for any Thing.

Ge. God send you may always enjoy the same. I am glad to hear it. You give me a Pleasure in saying so. It is very pleasant to me to hear that. I am glad at my Heart to hear this from you. This is no bad News to me. I am exceeding glad to hear you say so. I wish you may be so always. I wish you may enjoy the same Health as long as you live. In congratulating you, I joy myself, Thanks to Heaven for it.

Li. Indeed I am very well if you are so.

Ge. Well, but have you met with no Trouble all this while?

Li. None but the Want of your good Company.

Ge. Well, but how do you do though?

Li. Well enough, finely, bravely, very well as may be, very well indeed, happily, commodiously, no Way amiss. I enjoy rather what Health I wish, than what I deserved, Princely, Herculean, Champion-like.

Ge. I was expecting when you would say Bull-like too.

* * * * *

Of being Ill.

Ge. Are you in good Health?

Li. I wish I were. Not altogether so well as I would be. Indeed I am so, so. Pretty well. I am as well as I can be, since I can't be so well as I would be. As I use to be. So as it pleases God. Truly not very well. Never worse in all my Life. As I am wont to be. I am as they use to be who have to do with the Doctor.

Ge. How do you do?

Li. Not as I would do.

Ge. Why truly not well, ill, very ill, in an unhappy, unprosperous, unfavourable, bad, adverse, unlucky, feeble, dubious, indifferent, State of Health, not at all as I would, a tolerable, such as I would not wish even to my Enemies.

Ge. You tell me a melancholy Story. Heavens forbid it. God forbid. No more of that I pray. I wish what you say were not true. But you must be of good Chear, you must pluck up a good Heart. A good Heart is a good Help in bad Circumstances. You must bear up your Mind with the Hope of better Fortune. What Distemper is it? What Sort of Disease is it? What Distemper is it that afflicts you? What Distemper are you troubled with?

Li. I can't tell, and in that my Condition is the more dangerous.

Ge. That's true, for when the Disease is known, it is half cured. Have you had the Advice of any Doctor?

Li. Ay, of a great many.

Ge. What do they say to your Case?

Li. What the Lawyers of Demiphon (in the Play) said to him. One says one Thing, another he says another, and the third he'll consider of it. But they all agree in this, that I am in a sad Condition.

Ge. How long have you been taken with this Illness? How long have you been ill of this Distemper? How long has this Illness seiz'd you?

Li. About twenty Days more or less, almost a Month. It's now near three Months. It seems an Age to me since I was first taken ill.

Ge. But I think you ought to take care that the Distemper don't grow upon you.

Li. It has grown too much upon me already.

Ge. Is it a Dropsy?

Li. They say it is not.

Ge. Is it a Dissentery?

Li. I think not.

Ge. Is it a Fever?

Li. I believe it is a Kind of Fever; but a new one, as ever and anon new ones spring up that were unknown before.

Ge. There were more old ones than enough before.

Li. Thus it pleases Nature to deal with us, which is a little too severe.

Ge. How often does the Fit come?

Li. How often do you say? Every Day, nay every Hour indeed.

Ge. O wonderful! It is a sad Affliction. How did you get this Distemper? How do you think you came by it?

Li. By Reason of Want.

Ge. Why you don't use to be so superstitious as to starve yourself with Fasting.

Li. It is not Bigotry but Penury.

Ge. What do you mean by Penury?

Li. I mean I could get no Victuals, I believe it came by a Cold. I fancy I got the Distemper by eating rotten Eggs. By drinking too much Water in my Wine. This Crudity in my Stomach came by eating green Apples.

Ge. But consider whether you han't contracted this Distemper by long and late Studying, by hard Drinking, or immoderate use of Venery? Why don't you send for a Doctor?

Li. I am afraid he should do me more Harm than good. I am afraid he should poison me instead of curing me.

Ge. You ought to chuse one that you can confide in.

Li. If I must dye, I had rather dye once for all, than to be tormented with so many Slops.

Ge. Well then, be your own Doctor. If you can't trust to a Doctor, pray God be your Physician. There have been some that have recover'd their Health, by putting on a Dominican or a Franciscan Fryars Cowl.

Li. And perhaps it had been the same Thing, if they had put on a Whore-master's Cloak. These things have no Effect upon those that have no Faith in 'em.

Ge. Why then, believe that you may recover. Some have been cur'd by making Vows to a Saint.

Li. But I have no Dealings with Saints.

Ge. Then pray to Christ that you may have Faith, and that he would be pleased to bestow the Blessing of Health upon you.

Li. I can't tell whether it would be a Blessing or no.

Ge. Why, is it not a Blessing to be freed from a Distemper?

Li. Sometimes it is better to dye. I ask nothing of him, but only that he'd give me what would be best for me.

Ge. Take something to purge you.

Li. I am laxative enough already.

Ge. Take something to make you go to Stool. You must take a Purge.

Li. I ought to take something that is binding rather, for I am too laxative.

* * * * *

Of enquiring of a Person upon his Return.

The ARGUMENT.

Of interrogating a Person returning from a Journey, concerning War, private Affairs, a Disappointment, great Promises, a Wife Lying-in, Dangers, Losses, &c.

George. Have you had a good and prosperous Journey?

Li. Pretty good; but that there is such Robbing every where.

Ge. This is the Effect of War.

Li. It is so, but it is a wicked one.

Ge. Did you come on Foot or on Horse-back?

Li. Part of the Way a Foot, Part in a Coach, Part on Horse-back, and Part by Sea.

Ge. How go Matters in France?

Li. All's in Confusion, there's nothing but War talk'd of. What Mischiefs they may bring upon their Enemies I know not; but this I'm sure of, the French themselves are afflicted with unexpressible Calamities.

Ge. Whence come all these tumultuary Wars?

Li. Whence should they come but from the Ambition of Monarchs?

Ge. But it would be more their Prudence to appease these Storms of human Affairs.

Li. Appease 'em! Ay, so they do, as the South Wind does the Sea. They fancy themselves to be Gods, and that the World was made for their Sakes.

Ge. Nay, rather a Prince was made for the Good of the Commonwealth, and not the Commonwealth for the Sake of the Prince.

Li. Nay, there are Clergymen too, who blow up the Coals, and sound an Alarm to these Tumults.

Ge. I'd have them set in the Front of the Battel.

Li. Ay, ay, but they take Care to keep out of Harm's Way.

Ge. But let us leave these publick Affairs to Providence. How go your own Matters?

Li. Very well, happily, indifferently well, tolerably.

Ge. How goes it with your own Business? As you would have it?

Li. Nay, better than I could have wish'd for, better than I deserve, beyond what I could have hop'd for.

Ge. Are all Things according to your Mind? Is all well? Has every Thing succeeded?

Li. It can't be worse. It is impossible it should be worse than it is.

Ge. What then, han't you got what you sought for? Han't you caught the Game you hunted?

Li. Hunt! Ay, I did hunt indeed, but with very ill Success.

Ge. But is there no Hope then?

Li. Hope enough, but nothing else.

Ge. Did the Bishop give you no Hopes?

Li. Yes, whole Cart Loads, and whole Ship Loads of Hope; but nothing else.

Ge. Has he sent you nothing yet?

Li. He promis'd me largely, but he has never sent me a Farthing.

Ge. Then you must live in Hopes.

Li. Ay, but that won't fill the Belly; they that feed upon Hope may be said to hang, but not to live.

Ge. But however then, you were the lighter for travelling, not having your Pockets loaded.

Li. I confess that, nay, and safer too; for an empty Pocket is the best Defence in the World against Thieves; but for all that, I had rather have the Burthen and the Danger too.

Ge. You was not robb'd of any Thing by the Way, I hope?

Li. Robb'd! What can you rob a Man of that has nothing? There was more Reason for other Folks to be afraid of me, than I of them, having never a Penny in my Pocket. I might sing and be starved all the Way I went. Have you anything more to say?

Ge. Where are you going now?

Li. Strait Home, to see how all do there, whom I han't seen this long Time.

Ge. I wish you may find all well at Home.

Li. I pray God I may. Has any Thing new happen'd at our House since I went away?

Ge. Nothing but only you'll find your Family bigger than it was; for your Catulla has brought you a little Catulus since you have been gone. Your Hen has laid you an Egg.

Li. That's good News, I like your News, and I'll promise to give you a Gospel for it.

Ge. What Gospel? The Gospel according to St. Matthew?

Li. No, but according to Homer. Here take it.

Ge. Keep your Gospel to yourself, I have Stones enough at Home.

Li. Don't slight my Present, it is the Eagle's Stone; It is good for Women with Child; it is good to bring on their Labour.

Ge. Say you so? Then it is a very acceptable Present to me, and I'll endeavour to make you Amends.

Li. The Amends is made already by your kind Acceptance.

Ge. Nay, nothing in the World could come more seasonably, for my Wife's Belly is up to her Mouth almost.

Li. Then I'll make this Bargain with you; that if she has a Boy, you will let me be the Godfather.

Ge. Well I'll promise you that, and that you shall name it too.

Li. I wish it may be for both our Good.

Ge. Nay, for all our Good.

* * * * *

MAURICE, CYPRIAN.

Ma. You are come back fatter than you used to be: You are returned taller.

Cy. But in Truth I had rather it had been wiser, or more learned.

Ma. You had no Beard when you went away; but you have brought a little one back with you. You are grown somewhat oldish since you went away. What makes you look so pale, so lean, so wrinkled?

Cy. As is my Fortune, so is the Habit of my Body.

Ma. Has it been but bad then?

Cy. She never is otherwise to me, but never worse in my Life than now.

Ma. I am sorry for that. I am sorry for your Misfortune. But pray, what is this Mischance?

Cy. I have lost all my Money.

Ma. What in the Sea?

Cy. No, on Shore, before I went abroad.

Ma. Where?

Cy. Upon the English Coast.

Ma. It is well you scap'd with your Life; it is better to lose your Money, than that; the loss of ones good Name, is worse than the Loss of Money.

Cy. My Life and Reputation are safe; but my Money is lost.

Ma. The Loss of Life never can be repair'd; the Loss of Reputation very hardly; but the Loss of Money may easily be made up one Way or another. But how came it about?

Cy. I can't tell, unless it was my Destiny. So it pleas'd God. As the Devil would have it.

Ma. Now you see that Learning and Virtue are the safest Riches; for as they can't be taken from a Man, so neither are they burthensome to him that carries them.

Cy. Indeed you Philosophize very well; but in the mean Time I'm in Perplexity.

* * * * *

CLAUDIUS, BALBUS.

Cl. I am glad to see you well come Home Balbus.

Ba. And I to see you alive Claudius.

Cl. You are welcome Home into your own Country again.

Ba. You should rather congratulate me as a Fugitive from France.

Cl. Why so?

Ba. Because they are all up in Arms there.

Cl. But what have Scholars to do with Arms?

Ba. But there they don't spare even Scholars.

Cl. It is well you're got off safe.

Ba. But I did not get off without Danger neither.

Cl. You are come back quite another Man than you went away.

Ba. How so?

Cl. Why, of a Dutch Man, you are become a French Man.

Ba. Why, was I a Capon when I went away?

Cl. Your Dress shows that you're turn'd from a Dutch Man into a French Man.

Ba. I had rather suffer this Metamorphosis, than be turn'd into a Hen. But as a Cowl does not make a Monk, so neither does a Garment a French Man.

Cl. Have you learn'd to speak French?

Ba. Indifferently well.

Cl. How did you learn it?

Ba. Of Teachers that were no dumb ones I assure you.

Cl. From whom.

Ba. Of little Women, more full of Tongue, than Turtle Doves.

Cl. It is easy to learn to speak in such a School. Do you pronounce the French well?

Ba. Yes, that I do, and I pronounce Latin after the French Mode.

Cl. Then you will never write good Verses.

Ba. Why so?

Cl. Because you'll make false Quantities.

Ba. The Quality is enough for me.

Cl. Is Paris clear of the Plague?

Ba. Not quite, but it is not continual, sometimes it abates, and anon it returns again; sometimes it slackens, and then rages again.

Cl. Is not War itself Plague enough?

Ba. It is so, unless God thought otherwise.

Cl. Sure Bread must be very dear there.

Ba. There is a great Scarcity of it. There is a great Want of every Thing but wicked Soldiers. Good Men are wonderful cheap there.

Cl. What is in the Mind of the French to go to War with the Germans?

Ba. They have a Mind to imitate the Beetle, that won't give Place to the Eagle. Every one thinks himself an Hercules in War.

Cl. I won't detain you any longer, at some other Time we'll divert ourselves more largely, when we can both spare Time. At present I have a little Business that calls me to another Place.



FAMILY DISCOURSE.

The ARGUMENT.

This Colloquy presents us with the Sayings and Jokes of intimate Acquaintance, and the Repartees and Behaviour of familiar Friends one with another. 1. Of walking abroad, and calling Companions. 2. Of seldom visiting, of asking concerning a Wife, Daughter, Sons. 3. Concerning Leisure, the tingling of the Ear, the Description of a homely Maid. Invitation to a Wedding. 4. Of Studying too hard, &c.

PETER, MIDAS, a Boy, JODOCUS.

Peter, Soho, soho, Boy! does no Body come to the Door?

Mi. I think this Fellow will beat the Door down. Sure he must needs be some intimate Acquaintance or other. O old Friend Peter, what hast brought?

Pe. Myself.

Mi. In Truth then you have brought that which is not much worth.

Pe. But I'm sure I cost my Father a great deal.

Mi. I believe so, more than you can be sold for again.

Pe. But is Jodocus at Home?

Mi. I can't tell, but I'll go see.

Pe. Go in first, and ask him if he pleases to be at Home now.

Mi. Go yourself, and be your own Errand Boy.

Pe. Soho! Jodocus, are you at Home?

Jo. No, I am not.

Pe. Oh! You impudent Fellow I don't I hear you speak?

Jo. Nay, you are more impudent, for I took your Maid's Word for it lately, that you were not at Home, and you won't believe me myself.

Pe. You're in the Right on't, you've serv'd me in my own Kind.

Jo. As I sleep not for every Body, so I am not at Home to every Body, but for Time to come shall always be at Home to you.

Pe. Methinks you live the Life of a Snail.

Jo. Why so?

Pe. Because you keep always at Home and never stir abroad, just like a lame Cobler always in his Stall. You sit at Home till your Breech grows to your Seat.

Jo. At Home I have something to do, but I have no Business abroad, and if I had, the Weather we have had for several Days past, would have kept me from going abroad.

Pe. But now it is fair, and would tempt a Body to walk out; see how charming pleasant it is.

Jo. If you have a Mind to walk I won't be against it.

Pe. In Truth, I think we ought to take the Opportunity of this fine Weather.

Jo. But we ought to get a merry Companion or two, to go along with us.

Pe. So we will; but tell me who you'd have then.

Jo. What if we should get Hugh?

Pe. There is no great Difference between Hugo and Nugo.

Jo. Come on then, I like it mighty well.

Pe. What if we should call Alardus?

Jo. He's no dumb Man I'll assure you, what he wants in Hearing he'll make up in Talking.

Pe. If you will, we'll get Naevius along with us too.

Jo. If we have but him, we shall never want merry Stories. I like the Company mainly, the next Thing is to pitch upon a pleasant Place.

Pe. I'll show you a Place where you shall neither want the Shade of a Grove, nor the pleasant Verdure of Meadows, nor the purling Streams of Fountains, you'll say it is a Place worthy of the Muses themselves.

Jo. You promise nobly.

Pe. You are too intent upon your Books; you sit too close to your Books; you make yourself lean with immoderate Study.

Jo. I had rather grow lean with Study than with Love.

Pe. We don't live to study, but we therefore study that we may live pleasantly.

Jo. Indeed I could live and dye in my Study.

Pe. I approve well enough of studying hard, but not to study myself to Death.

Pe. Has this Walk pleas'd you?

Jo. It has been a charming pleasant one.

* * * * *

2. GILES, LEONARD.

Gi. Where is our Leonard a going?

Le. I was coming to you.

Gi. That you do but seldom.

Le. Why so?

Gi. Because you han't been to see me this twelve Months.

Le. I had rather err on that Hand to be wanted, than to be tiresome.

Gi. I am never tired with the Company of a good Friend: Nay, the oftner you come the more welcome you are.

Le. But by the Way, how goes Matters at your House.

Gi. Why truly not many Things as I would have them.

Le. I don't wonder at that, but is your Wife brought to Bed yet?

Gi. Ay, a great While ago, and had two at a Birth too.

Le. How, two at once!

Gi. 'Tis as I tell you, and more than that she's with Child again.

Le. That's the Way to increase your Family.

Gi. Ay, but I wish Fortune would increase my Money as much as my Wife does my Family.

Le. Have you disposed of your Daughter yet?

Gi. No, not yet.

Le. I would have you consider if it be not hazardous to keep such a great Maid as she at Home, you should look out for a Husband for her.

Gi. There's no Need of that, for she has Sweet-hearts enough already.

Le. But why then don't you single out one for her, him that you like the best of them?

Gi. They are all so good that I can't tell which to chuse: But my Daughter won't hear of marrying.

Le. How say you! If I am not mistaken, she has been marriageable for some Time. She has been fit for a Husband a great While, ripe for Wedlock, ready for a Husband this great While.

Gi. Why not, she is above seventeen, she's above two and twenty, she's in her nineteenth Year, she's above eighteen Years old.

Le. But why is she averse to Marriage?

Gi. She says she has a Mind to be married to Christ.

Le. In Truth he has a great many Brides. But is she married to an evil Genius that lives chastly with a Husband?

Gi. I don't think so.

Le. How came that Whimsey into her Head?

Gi. I can't tell, but there's no persuading her out of it by all that can be said to her.

Le. You should take Care that there be no Tricksters that inveagle or draw her away.

Gi. I know these Kidnappers well enough, and I drive this Kind of Cattel as far from my House as I can.

Le. But what do you intend to do then? Do you intend to let her have her Humour?

Gi. No, I'll prevent it if possible; I'll try every Method to alter her Mind; but if she persists in it, I'll not force her against her Will, lest I should be found to fight against God, or rather to fight against the Monks.

Le. Indeed you speak very religiously; but take Care to try her Constancy throughly, lest she should afterwards repent it, when it is too late.

Gi. I'll do my utmost Endeavours.

Le. What Employment do your Sons follow?

Gi. The eldest has been married this good While, and will be a Father in a little Time; I have sent the youngest away to Paris, for he did nothing but play while he was here.

Le. Why did you send him thither?

Gi. That he might come back a greater Fool than he went.

Le. Don't talk so.

Gi. The middlemost has lately enter'd into holy Orders.

Le. I wish 'em all well.

* * * * *

3. MOPSUS, DROMO.

Mo. How is it? What are you doing Dromo?

Dr. I'm sitting still.

Mo. I see that; but how do Matters go with you?

Dr. As they use to do with unfortunate Persons.

Mo. God forbid that that should be your Case. But what are you doing?

Dr. I am idling, as you see; doing just nothing at all.

Mo. It is better to be idle than doing of nothing; it may be I interrupt you, being employ'd in some Matters of Consequence?

Dr. No, really, entirely at Leisure; I just began to be tir'd of being alone, and was wishing for a merry Companion.

Mo. It may be I hinder, interrupt, disturb you, being about some Business?

Dr. No, you divert me, being tired with being idle.

Mo. Pray pardon me if I have interrupted you unseasonably.

Dr. Nay, you came very seasonably; you are come in the Nick of Time; I was just now wishing for you; I am extreme glad of your Company.

Mo. It may be you are about some serious Business, that I would by no means interrupt or hinder?

Dr. Nay, rather it is according to the old Proverb, Talk of the Devil and he'll appear; for we were just now speaking of you.

Mo. In short, I believe you were, for my Ear tingled mightily as I came along.

Dr. Which Ear was it?

Mo. My left, from which I guess there was no Good said of me.

Dr. Nay, I'll assure you there was nothing but Good said.

Mo. Then the old Proverb is not true. But what good News have you?

Dr. They say you are become a Huntsman.

Mo. Nay, more than that, I have gotten the Game now in my Nets that I have been hunting after.

Dr. What Game is it?

Mo. A pretty Girl, that I am to marry in a Day or two; and I intreat you to honour me with your good Company at my Wedding.

Dr. Pray, who is your Bride?

Mo. Alice, the Daughter of Chremes.

Dr. You are a rare Fellow to chuse a Beauty for one! Can you fancy that Black-a-top, Snub-nos'd, Sparrow-mouth'd, Paunch-belly'd Creature.

Mo. Prithee hold thy Tongue, I marry her to please myself, and not you. Pray, is it not enough that I like her? The less she pleases you, the more she'll please me.

* * * * *

4. SYRUS, GETA.

Sy. I wish you much Happiness.

Ge. And I wish you double what you wish me.

Sy. What are you doing?

Ge. I am talking.

Sy. What! By yourself?

Ge. As you see.

Sy. It may be you are talking to yourself, and then you ought to see to it that you talk to an honest Man.

Ge. Nay, I am conversing with a very facetious Companion.

Sy. With whom?

Ge. With Apuleius.

Sy. That I think you are always doing, but the Muses love Intermission; you study continually.

Ge. I am never tired with Study.

Sy. It may be so, but yet you ought to set Bounds; though Study ought not to be omitted, yet it ought sometimes to be intermitted; Studies are not to be quite thrown aside, yet they ought for a While to be laid aside; there is nothing pleasant that wants Variety; the seldomer Pleasures are made use of the pleasanter they are. You do nothing else but study. You are always studying. You are continually at your Books. You read incessantly. You study Night and Day. You never are but a studying. You are continually at your Study. You are always intent upon your Books. You know no End of, nor set no Bound to Study. You give yourself no Rest from your Studies. You allow yourself no Intermission in, nor ever give over studying.

Ge. Very well! This is like you. You banter me as you use to do. You make a Game of me. You joke upon me. You satyrize me. You treat me with a Sneer. I see how you jeer me well enough. You only jest with me. I am your Laughing-stock. I am laugh'd at by you. You make yourself merry with me. You make a meer Game and Sport of me. Why don't you put me on Asses Ears too? My Books, that are all over dusty and mouldy, shew how hard a Studier I am.

Sy. Let me die if I don't speak my Mind. Let me perish if I don't speak as I think. Let me not live if I dissemble. I speak what I think. I speak the Truth. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak nothing but what I think.

* * * * *

Why don't you come to see me?

Ge. What's the Matter you ha'n't come to see me all this While? What's the Matter you visit me so seldom? What has happen'd to you that you never have come at me for so long Time? Why are you so seldom a Visitor? What is the Meaning that you never come near one for so long Time? What has hinder'd you that you have come to see me no oftner? What has prevented you that you have never let me have the Opportunity of seeing you for this long Time?

* * * * *

I could not by Reason of Business.

Sy. I had not Leisure. I would have come, but I could not for my Business. Business would not permit me hitherto to come to see you. These Floods of Business that I have been plung'd in would not permit me to pay my Respects to you. I have been so busy I could not come. I have been harass'd with so many vexatious Matters that I could not get an Opportunity. I have been so taken up with a troublesome Business that I could never have so much Command of myself. You must impute it to my Business, and not to me. It was not for Want of Will, but Opportunity. I could not get Time till now. I have had no Time till now. I never have had any Leisure till this Time. I have been so ill I could not come. I could not come, the Weather has been so bad.

Ge. Indeed I accept of your Excuse, but upon this Condition, that you don't make use of it often. If Sickness has been the Occasion of your Absence, your Excuse is juster than I wish it had been; I'll excuse you upon this Condition, that you make Amends for your Omission by Kindness, if you make up your past Neglect by your future frequent Visits.

Sy. You don't esteem these common Formalities. Our Friendship is more firm than to need to be supported by such vulgar Ceremonies. He visits often enough that loves constantly.

Ge. A Mischief take those Incumbrances that have depriv'd us of your Company. I can't tell what to wish for bad enough to those Affairs that have envy'd us the Company of so good a Friend. A Mischief take that Fever that hath tormented us so long with the Want of you. I wish that Fever may perish, so thou thyself wert but safe.

* * * * *

Of Commanding and Promising.

JAMES, SAPIDUS.

Ja. I pray you take a special Care of this Matter. I earnestly intreat you to take Care of this Affair. If you have any Respect for me, pray manage this Affair diligently. Pray be very careful in this Affair. Pray take a great Deal of Care about this Business for my Sake. If you are indeed the Man I always took you to be, let me see in this Concern what Esteem you have for me.

Sa. Say no more, I'll dispatch this Affair for you, and that very shortly too. I can't indeed warrant you what the Event shall be, but this I promise you, that neither Fidelity nor Industry shall be wanting in me. I will take more Care of it than if it were mine own Affair; tho' indeed that which is my Friend's I account as my own. I will so manage the Affair, that whatever is wanting, Care and Diligence shall not be wanting. Take you no Care about the Matter, I'll do it for you. Do you be easy, I'll take the Management of it upon myself. I am glad to have an Opportunity put into my Hand of shewing you my Respect. I do not promise you in Words, but I will in Reality perform whatsoever is to be expected from a real Friend, and one that heartily wishes you well. I won't bring you into a Fool's Paradise. I'll do that which shall give you Occasion to say you trusted the Affair to a Friend.

* * * * *

Success.

Sa. The Matter succeeded better than I could have expected. Fortune has favour'd both our Wishes. If Fortune had been your Wife she could not have been more observant to you. Your Affair went on bravely with Wind and Tide. Fortune has out-done our very Wishes. You must needs be a Favourite of Fortune, to whom all Things fall out just as you would have them. I have obtain'd more than I could presume to wish for. This Journey has been perform'd from Beginning to End with all the fortunate Circumstances imaginable. The whole Affair has fallen out according to our Wish. This Chance fell out happily for us. I think we have been lucky to Admiration, that what has been so imprudently enterpriz'd, has so happily succeeded.

* * * * *

A giving one Thanks.

Ja. Indeed I thank you, and shall thank you heartily as long as I live for that good Service you have done me. I can scarce give you the Thanks you deserve, and shall never be able to make you Amends. I see how much I am oblig'd to you for your Kindness to me. Indeed I don't wonder at it, for it is no new Thing, and in that I am the more oblig'd to you. My Sapidus I do, and it is my Duty to love you heartily for your Kindness to me. In as much as in this Affair you have not acted the Part of a Courtier, I do, and always shall thank you. I respect you, and thank you, that you made my Affair your Care. You have oblig'd me very much by that Kindness of yours. It is a great Obligation upon me that you have manag'd my Concern with Fidelity. Of all your Kindnesses, which are indeed a great many, you have shew'd me none has oblig'd me more than this. I cannot possibly make you a Return according to your Merit Too much Ceremony between you and I is unnecessary, but that which is in my Power I'll do. I'll be thankful as long as I live. I confess myself highly oblig'd to you for your good Service. For this Kindness I owe you more than I am able to pay. By this good Office you have attach'd me to you so firmly, that I can never be able to disengage myself. You have laid me under so many and great Obligations, that I shall never be able to get out of your Debt. No Slave was ever so engag'd in Duty to his Master as you have engag'd me by this Office. You have by this good Turn brought me more into your Debt than ever I shall be able to pay. I am oblig'd to you upon many Accounts, but upon none more than upon this. Thanks are due for common Kindness, but this is beyond the Power of Thanks to retaliate.

* * * * *

The Answer.

Sa. Forbear these Compliments, the Friendship between you and I is greater than that we should thank one another for any Service done. I have not bestow'd this Kindness upon you, but only made a Return of it to you. I think the Amends is sufficiently made, if my most sedulous Endeavours are acceptable to you. There is no Reason you should thank me for repaying this small Kindness, for those uncommon Kindnesses I have so often receiv'd from you. Indeed I merit no Praise, but should have been the most ungrateful Man in the World if I had been wanting to my Friend. Whatsoever I have, and whatsoever I can do, you may call as much your own as any Thing that you have the best Title to. I look upon it as a Favour that you take my Service kindly. You pay so great an Acknowledgment to me for so small a Kindness, as tho' I did not owe you much greater. He serves himself that serves his Friend. He that serves a Friend does not give away his Service, but puts it out to Interest. If you approve of my Service, pray make frequent Use of it; then I shall think my Service is acceptable, if as often as you have Occasion for it you would not request but command it.



OF RASH VOWS.

The ARGUMENT.

This Colloquy treats chiefly of three Things, 1. Of the superstitious Pilgrimages of some Persons to Jerusalem, and other holy Places, under Pretence of Devotion. 2. That Vows are not to be made rashly over a Pot of Ale: but that Time, Expence and Pains ought to be employ d otherwise, in such Matters as have a real Tendency to promote trite Piety. 3. Of the Insignificancy and Absurdity of Popish Indulgencies.

ARNOLDUS, CORNELIUS.

ARNOLDUS. O! Cornelius, well met heartily, you have been lost this hundred Years.

Co. What my old Companion Arnoldus, the Man I long'd to see most of any Man in the World! God save you.

Ar. We all gave thee over for lost. But prithee where hast been rambling all this While?

Co. In t'other World.

Ar. Why truly a Body would think so by thy slovenly Dress, lean Carcase, and ghastly Phyz.

Co. Well, but I am just come from Jerusalem, not from the Stygian Shades.

Ar. What Wind blew thee thither?

Co. What Wind blows a great many other Folks thither?

Ar. Why Folly, or else I am mistaken.

Co. However, I am not the only Fool in the World.

Ar. What did you hunt after there?

Co. Why Misery.

Ar. You might have found that nearer Home. But did you meet with any Thing worth seeing there?

Co. Why truly, to speak ingenuously, little or nothing. They shew us some certain Monuments of Antiquity, which I look upon to be most of 'em Counterfeits, and meer Contrivances to bubble the Simple and Credulous. I don't think they know precisely the Place that Jerusalem anciently stood in.

Ar. What did you see then?

Co. A great deal of Barbarity every where.

Ar. But I hope you are come back more holy than you went.

Co. No indeed, rather ten Times worse.

Ar. Well, but then you are richer?

Co. Nay, rather poorer than Job.

Ar. But don't you repent you have taken so long a Journey to so little Purpose?

Co. No, nor I am not asham'd neither, I have so many Companions of my Folly to keep me in Countenance; and as for Repentance, it's too late now.

Ar. What! do you get no Good then by so dangerous a Voyage?

Co. Yes, a great Deal.

Ar. What is it?

Co. Why, I shall live more pleasantly for it for Time to come.

Ar. What, because you'll have the Pleasure of telling old Stories when the Danger is over?

Co. That is something indeed, but that is not all.

Ar. Is there any other Advantage in it besides that?

Co. Yes, there is.

Ar. What is it? Pray tell me.

Co. Why, I can divert myself and Company, as oft as I have a Mind to it, in romancing upon my Adventures over a Pot of Ale, or a good Dinner.

Ar. Why, truly that is something, as you say.

Co. And besides, I shall take as much Pleasure myself when I hear others romancing about Things they never heard nor saw; nay, and that they do with that Assurance, that when they are telling the most ridiculous and impossible Things in Nature, they persuade themselves they are speaking Truth all the While.

Ar. This is a wonderful Pleasure. Well then, you have not lost all your Cost and Labour, as the Saying is.

Co. Nay, I think this is something better still than what they do, who, for the sake of little Advance-money, list themselves for Soldiers in the Army, which is the Nursery of all Impiety.

Ar. But it is an ungentleman-like Thing to take Delight in telling Lies.

Co. But it is a little more like a Gentleman than either to delight others, or be delighted in slandering other Persons, or lavishing away a Man's Time or Substance in Gaming.

Ar. Indeed I must be of your Mind in that.

Co. But then there is another Advantage.

Ar. What is that?

Co. If there shall be any Friend that I love very well, who shall happen to be tainted with this Phrensy, I will advise him to stay at Home; as your Mariners that have been cast away, advise them that are going to Sea, to steer clear of the Place where they miscarried.

Ar. I wish you had been my Moniter in Time.

Co. What Man! Have you been infected with this Disease too?

Ar. Yes, I have been at Rome and Compostella.

Co. Good God! how I am pleas'd that you have been as great a Fool as I! What Pallas put that into your Head?

Ar. No Pallas, but Moria rather, especially when I left at Home a handsome young Wife, several Children, and a Family, who had nothing in the World to depend upon for a Maintenance but my daily Labour.

Co. Sure it must be some important Reason that drew you away from all these engaging Relations. Prithee tell me what it was.

Ar. I am asham'd to tell it.

Co. You need not be asham'd to tell me, who, you know, have been sick of the same Distemper.

Ar. There was a Knot of Neighbours of us drinking together, and when the Wine began to work in our Noddles, one said he had a Mind to make a Visit to St. James, and another to St. Peter; presently there was one or two that promis'd to go with them, till at last it was concluded upon to go all together; and I, that I might not seem a disagreeable Companion, rather than break good Company, promised to go too. The next Question was, whether we should go to Rome or Compostella? Upon the Debate it was determin'd that we should all, God willing, set out the next Day for both Places.

Co. A grave Decree, fitter to be writ in Wine than engrav'd in Brass.

Ar. Presently a Bumper was put about to our good Journey, which when every Man had taken off in his Turn, the Vote passed into an Act, and became inviolable.

Co. A new Religion! But did you all come safe back?

Ar. All but three, one dy'd by the Way, and gave us in Charge to give his humble Service to Peter and James; another dy'd at Rome, who bad us remember him to his Wife and Children; and the third we left at Florence dangerously ill, and I believe he is in Heaven before now.

Co. Was he so good a Man then?

Ar. The veriest Droll in Nature.

Co. Why do you think he is in Heaven then?

Ar. Because he had a whole Satchel full of large Indulgencies.

Co. I understand you, but it is a long Way to Heaven, and a very dangerous one too, as I am told, by reason of the little Thieves that infest the middle Region of the Air.

Ar. That's true, but he was well fortify'd with Bulls.

Co. What Language were they written in?

Ar. In Latin.

Co. And will they secure him?

Ar. Yes, unless he should happen upon some Spirit that does not understand Latin, in that Case he must go back to Rome, and get a new Passport.

Co. Do they sell Bulls there to dead Men too?

Ar. Yes.

Co. But by the Way, let me advise you to have a Care what you say, for now there are a great many Spies abroad.

Ar. I don't speak slightingly of Indulgencies themselves, but I laugh at the Folly of my fuddling Companion, who tho' he was the greatest Trifler that ever was born, yet chose rather to venture the whole Stress of his Salvation upon a Skin of Parchment than upon the Amendment of his Life. But when shall we have that merry Bout you spoke of just now?

Co. When Opportunity offers we'll set a Time for a small Collation, and invite some of our Comrades, there we will tell Lies, who can lye fastest, and divert one another with Lies till we have our Bellies full.

Ar. Come on, a Match.



OF BENEFICE-HUNTERS.

The ARGUMENT.

In this Colloquy those Persons are reprehended that run to and again to Rome hunting after Benefices, and that oftentimes with the Hazard of the Corruption of their Morals, and the Loss of their Money. The Clergy are admonished to divert themselves with reading of good Books, rather than with a Concubine. Jocular Discourse concerning a long Nose.

PAMPHAGUS, COCLES.

PAM. Either my Sight fails me, or this is my old Pot-Companion Cocles.

Co. No, no, your Eyes don't deceive you at all, you see a Companion that is yours heartily. Nobody ever thought to have seen you again, you have been gone so many Years, and no Body knew what was become of you. But whence come you from? Prithee tell me.

Pa. From the Antipodes.

Co. Nay, but I believe you are come from the fortunate Islands.

Pa. I am glad you know your old Companion, I was afraid I should come home as Ulysses did.

Co. Why pray? After what Manner did he come Home?

Pa. His own Wife did not know him; only his Dog, being grown very old, acknowledg'd his Master, by wagging his Tail.

Co. How many Years was he from Home?

Pa. Twenty.

Co. You have been absent more than twenty Years, and yet I knew your Face again. But who tells that Story of Ulysses?

Pa. Homer.

Co. He? They say he's the Father of all fabulous Stories. It may be his Wife had gotten herself a Gallant in the mean time, and therefore did not know her own Ulysses.

Pa. No, nothing of that, she was one of the chastest Women in the World. But Pallas had made Ulysses look old, that he might not be known.

Co. How came he to be known at last?

Pa. By a little Wart that he had upon one of his Toes. His Nurse, who was now a very old Woman, took Notice of that as she was washing his Feet.

Co. A curious old Hagg. Well then, do you admire that I know you that have so remarkable a Nose.

Pa. I am not at all sorry for this Nose.

Co. No, nor have you any Occasion to be sorry for having a Thing that is fit for so many Uses.

Pa. For what Uses?

Co. First of all, it will serve instead of an Extinguisher, to put out Candles.

Pa. Go on.

Co. Again, if you want to draw any Thing out of a deep Pit, it will serve instead of an Elephant's Trunk.

Pa. O wonderful.

Co. If your Hands be employ'd, it will serve instead of a Pin.

Pa. Is it good for any Thing else?

Co. If you have no Bellows, it will serve to blow the Fire.

Pa. This is very pretty; have you any more of it?

Co. If the Light offends you when you are writing, it will serve for an Umbrella.

Pa. Ha, ha, ha! Have you any Thing more to say?

Co. In a Sea-fight it will serve for a Grappling-hook.

Pa. What will it serve for in a Land-fight?

Co. Instead of a Shield.

Pa. And what else?

Co. It will serve for a Wedge to cleave Wood withal.

Pa. Well said.

Co. If you act the Part of a Herald, it will be for a Trumpet; if you sound an Alarm, a Horn; if you dig, a Spade; if you reap, a Sickle; if you go to Sea, an Anchor; in the Kitchen it will serve for a Flesh-hook; and in Fishing a Fish-hook.

Pa. I am a happy Fellow indeed, I did not know I carry'd about me a Piece of Houshold Stuff that would serve for so many Uses.

Co. But in the mean Time, in what Corner of the Earth have you hid yourself all this While?

Pa. In Rome.

Co. But is it possible that in so publick a Place no Body should know you were alive?

Pa. Good Men are no where in the World so much incognito as there, so that in the brightest Day you shall scarce see one in a throng'd Market.

Co. Well, but then you're come home loaden with Benefices.

Pa. Indeed I hunted after them diligently, but I had no Success; for the Way of Fishing there is according to the Proverb, with a golden Hook.

Co. That's a foolish Way of Fishing.

Pa. No Matter for that, some Folks find it a very good Way.

Co. Are they not the greatest Fools in Nature that change Gold for Lead?

Pa. But don't you know that there are Veins of Gold in holy Lead?

Co. What then! Are you come back nothing but a Pamphagus?

Pa. No.

Co. What then, pray?

Pa. A ravenous Wolf.

Co. But they make a better Voyage of it, that return laden with Budgets full of Benefices. Why had you rather have a Benefice than a Wife?

Pa. Because I love to live at Ease. I love to live a pleasant Life.

Co. But in my Opinion they live the most pleasant Life that have at Home a pretty Girl, that they may embrace as often as they have a Mind to it.

Pa. And you may add this to it, sometimes when they have no Mind to it. I love a continual Pleasure; he that marries a Wife is happy for a Month, but he that gets a fat Benefice lives merrily all his Life.

Co. But Solitude is so melancholy a Life, that Adam, in Paradise could not have liv'd happily unless God had given him an Eve.

Pa. He'll ne'er need to want an Eve that has gotten a good Benefice.

Co. But that Pleasure can't really be call'd Pleasure that carries an ill Name and bad Conscience with it.

Pa. You say true, and therefore I design to divert the Tediousness of Solitude by a Conversation with Books.

Co. They are the pleasantest Companions in the World. But do you intend to return to your Fishing again?

Pa. Yes, I would, if I could get a fresh Bait.

Co. Would you have a golden one or a silver one?

Pa. Either of them.

Co. Be of good Cheer, your Father will supply you.

Pa. He'll part with nothing; and especially he'll not trust me again, when he comes to understand I have spent what I had to no Purpose.

Co. That's the Chance of the Dice.

Pa. But he don't like those Dice.

Co. If he shall absolutely deny you, I'll shew you where you may have as much as you please.

Pa. You tell me good News indeed, come shew it me, my Heart leaps for Joy.

Co. It is here hard by.

Pa. Why, have you gotten a Treasure?

Co. If I had, I would have it for myself, not for you.

Pa. If I could but get together 100 Ducats I should be in Hopes again.

Co. I'll shew you where you may have 100,000.

Pa. Prithee put me out of my Pain then, and do not teaze me to Death. Tell me where I may have it.

Co. From the Asse Budaei, there you may find a great many Ten Thousands, whether you'd have it Gold or Silver.

Pa. Go and be hang'd with your Banter, I'll pay you what I owe you out of that Bank.

Co. Ay, so you shall, but it shall be what I lend you out of it.

Pa. I know your waggish Tricks well enough.

Co. I'm not to be compar'd to you for that.

Pa. Nay, you are the veriest Wag in Nature, you are nothing but Waggery; you make a Jest of a serious Matter. In this Affair it is far easier Matter to teaze me than it is to please me. The Matter is of too great a Consequence to be made a Jest on. If you were in my Case you would not be so gamesome; you make a mere Game of me; you game and banter me. You joke upon me in a Thing that is not a joking Matter.

Co. I don't jeer you, I speak what I think. Indeed I do not laugh, I speak my Mind. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak sincerely. I speak the Truth.

Pa. So may your Cap stand always upon your Head, as you speak sincerely. But do I stand loitering here, and make no haste Home to see how all Things go there?

Co. You'll find a great many Things new.

Pa. I believe I shall; but I wish I may find all Things as I would have them.

Co. We may all wish so if we will, but never any Body found it so yet.

Pa. Our Rambles will do us both this Good, that we shall like Home the better for Time to come.

Co. I can't tell that, for I have seen some that have play'd the same Game over and over again; if once this Infection seizes a Person he seldom gets rid of it.



OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE.

The ARGUMENT.

The wicked Life of Soldiers is here reprehended, and shewn to be very miserable: That War is Confusion, and a Sink of all manner of Vices, in as much as in it there is no Distinction made betwixt Things sacred and profane. The Hope of Plunder allures many to become Soldiers. The Impieties of a Military Life are here laid open, by this Confession of a Soldier, that Youth may be put out of Conceit of going into the Army.

HANNO, THRASYMACHUS.

Hanno. How comes it about that you that went away a Mercury, come back a Vulcan?

Thr. What do you talk to me of your Mercuries and your Vulcans for?

Ha. Because you seem'd to be ready to fly when you went away, but you're come limping Home.

Thr. I'm come back like a Soldier then.

Ha. You a Soldier, that would out-run a Stag if an Enemy were at your Heels.

Thr. The Hope of Booty made me valiant.

Ha. Well, have you brought Home a good Deal of Plunder then?

Thr. Empty Pockets.

Ha. Then you were the lighter for travelling.

Thr. But I was heavy loaden with Sin.

Ha. That's heavy Luggage indeed, if the Prophet says right, who calls Sin Lead.

Thr. I have seen and had a Hand in more Villanies this Campaign than in the whole Course of my Life before.

Ha. How do you like a Soldier's Life?

Thr. There is no Course of Life in the. World more wicked or more wretched.

Ha. What then must be in the Minds of those People, that for the Sake of a little Money, and some out of Curiosity, make as much Haste to a Battel as to a Banquet?

Thr. In Truth, I can think no other but they are possess'd; for if the Devil were not in them they would never anticipate their Fate.

Ha. So one would think, for if you'd put 'em upon any honest Business, they'll scarce stir a Foot in it for any Money. But tell me, how went the Battel? Who got the better on't?

Thr. There was such a Hallooing, Hurly-burly, Noise of Guns, Trumpets and Drums, Neighing of Horses, and Shouting of Men, that I was so far from knowing what others were a doing, that I scarcely knew where I was myself.

Ha. How comes it about then that others, after a Fight is over, do paint you out every Circumstance so to the Life, and tell you what such an Officer said, and what t'other did, as tho' they had been nothing but Lookers on all the Time, and had been every where at the same Time?

Thr. It is my Opinion that they lye confoundedly. I can tell you what was done in my own Tent, but as to what was done in the Battel, I know nothing at all of that.

Ha. Don't you know how you came to be lame neither?

Thr. Scarce that upon my Honour, but I suppose my Knee was hurt by a Stone, or a Horse-heel, or so.

Ha. Well, but I can tell you.

Thr. You tell me? Why, has any Body told you?

Ha. No, but I guess.

Thr. Tell me then.

Ha. When you were running away in a Fright, you fell down and hit it against a Stone.

Thr. Let me die if you han't hit the Nail on the Head.

Ha. Go, get you Home, and tell your Wife of your Exploits.

Thr. She'll read me a Juniper-Lecture for coming Home in such a Pickle.

Ha. But what Restitution will you make for what you have stolen?

Thr. That's made already.

Ha. To whom?

Thr. Why, to Whores, Sutlers, and Gamesters.

Ha. That's like a Soldier for all the World, it's but just that what's got over the Devil's Back should be spent under his Belly.

Ha. But I hope you have kept your Fingers all this While from Sacrilege?

Thr. There's nothing sacred in Hostility, there we neither spare private Houses nor Churches.

Ha. How will you make Satisfaction?

Thr. They say there is no Satisfaction to be made for what is done in War, for all Things are lawful there.

Ha. You mean by the Law of Arms, I suppose?

Thr. You are right.

Ha. But that Law is the highest Injustice. It was not the Love of your Country, but the Love of Booty that made you a Soldier.

Thr. I confess so, and I believe very few go into the Army with any better Design.

Ha. It is indeed some Excuse to be mad with the greater Part of Mankind.

Thr. I have heard a Parson say in his Pulpit that War was lawful.

Ha. Pulpits indeed are the Oracles of Truth. But War may be lawful for a Prince, and yet not so for you.

Thr. I have heard that every Man must live by his Trade.

Ha. A very honourable Trade indeed to burn Houses, rob Churches, ravish Nuns, plunder the Poor, and murder the Innocent!

Thr. Butchers are hired to kill Beasts; and why is our Trade found Fault with who are hired to kill Men?

Ha. But was you never thoughtful what should become of your Soul if you happen'd to be kill'd in the Battel?

Thr. Not very much; I was very well satisfied in my Mind, having once for all commended myself to St. Barbara.

Ha. And did she take you under her Protection?

Thr. I fancied so, for methought she gave me a little Nod.

Ha. What Time was it? In the Morning?

Thr. No, no, 'twas after Supper.

Ha. And by that Time I suppose the Trees seem'd to walk too?

Thr. How this Man guesses every Thing! But St. Christopher was the Saint I most depended on, whose Picture I had always in my Eye.

Ha. What in your Tent?

Thr. We had drawn him with Charcoal upon our Sail-cloth.

Thr. Then to be sure that Christopher the Collier was a sure Card to trust to? But without jesting, I don't see how you can expect to be forgiven all these Villanies, unless you go to Rome.

Thr. Yes, I can, I know a shorter Way than that.

Ha. What Way is that?

Thr. I'll go to the Dominicans, and there I can do my Business with the Commissaries for a Trifle.

Ha. What, for Sacrilege?

Thr. Ay, if I had robb'd Christ himself, and cut off his Head afterwards, they have Pardons would reach it, and Commissions large enough to compound for it.

Ha. That is well indeed, if God should ratify your Composition.

Thr. Nay, I am rather afraid the Devil should not ratify it; God is of a forgiving Nature.

Ha. What Priest will you get you?

Thr. One that I know has but little Modesty or Honesty.

Ha. Like to like. And when that's over, you'll go strait away to the Communion, like a good Christian, will you not?

Thr. Why should I not? For after I have once discharg'd the Jakes of my Sins into his Cowl, and unburden'd myself of my Luggage, let him look to it that absolv'd me.

Ha. But how can you be sure that he does absolve you?

Thr. I know that well enough.

Ha. How do you know it?

Thr. Because he lays his Hand upon my Head and mutters over something, I don't know what.

Ha. What if he should give you all your Sins again when he lays his Hand upon your Head, and these should be the Words he mutters to himself? I absolve thee from all thy good Deeds, of which I find few or none in thee; I restore thee to thy wonted Manners, and leave thee just as I found thee.

Thr. Let him look to what he says, it is enough for me that I believe I am absolv'd.

Ha. But you run a great Hazard by that Belief, for perhaps that will not be Satisfaction to God, to whom thou art indebted.

Thr. Who a Mischief put you in my Way to disturb my Conscience, which was very quiet before?

Ha. Nay, I think it is a very happy Encounter to meet a Friend that gives good Advice.

Thr. I can't tell how good it is, but I am sure it is not very pleasant.



The COMMANDS OF A MASTER.

The ARGUMENT.

This Colloquy treats of the Commands of a Master, and the Business of a Servant, 1. The Master calls up his sleepy Servant, commands him to set the House to rights; the Servant answers again, that he speaks not a Word about Dinner, &c. 2. Of sending him on various Errands. 3. Concerning Riding.

1. Of calling up the Sleeper.

RABANUS, SYRUS.

RA. Soho, soho, Rascal, I am hoarse a bawling to you, and you lye snoring still, you'll sleep for ever I think in my Conscience; either get up presently or I'll rouze you with a good Cudgel. When will you have slept out your Yesterday's Debauch? Are you not asham'd, you sleepy Sot, to lye a-bed till this time of Day? Good Servants rise as soon as it is Day, and take Care to get every Thing in order before their Master rises. How loth this Drone is to leave his warm Nest! he is a whole Hour a scratching, and stretching, and yawning.

Sy. It is scarce Day yet.

Ra. I believe not to you; it is Midnight yet to your Eyes.

Sy. What do you want me to do?

Ra. Make the Fire burn, brush my Cap and Cloke, clean my Shoes and Galloshoes, take my Stockings and turn them inside out, and brush them well, first within, and then without, burn a little Perfume to sweeten the Air, light a Candle, give me a clean Shirt, air it well before a clear Fire.

Sy. It shall be done Sir.

Ra. But make Haste then, all this ought to have been done before now.

Sy. I do make Haste Sir.

Ra. I see what Haste you make, you are never the forwarder, you go a Snail's Gallop.

Sy. Sir, I cannot do two Things at once.

Ra. You Scoundrel, do you speak Sentences too? Take away the Chamber-Pot, lay the Bed-Clothes to Rights, draw back the Curtains, sweep the House, sweep the Chamber-floor, fetch me some Water to wash my Hands. What are you a sliving about you Drone? You are a Year a lighting a Candle.

Sy. I can't find a Spark of Fire.

Ra. Is it so you rak'd it up last Night?

Sy. I have no Bellows.

Ra. How the Knave thwarts me, as if he that has you can want Bellows.

Sy. What an imperious Master have I gotten! Ten of the nimblest Fellows in the World are scarce sufficient to perform his Orders.

Ra. What's that you say you slow-Back?

Sy. Nothing at all, Sir.

Ra. No, Sirrah, did I not hear you mutter?

Sy. I was saying my Prayers.

Ra. Ay, I believe so, but it was the Lord's-Prayer backwards then. Pray, what was that you were chattering about Imperiousness?

Sy. I was wishing you might be an Emperor.

Ra. And I wish you may be made a Man of a Stump of a Tree. Wait upon me to Church, and then run Home and make the Bed, and put every Thing in its Place; let the House be set to Rights from Top to Bottom, rub the Chamber-Pot, put these foul Things out of Sight, perhaps I may have some Gentry come to pay me a Visit; if I find any Thing out of Order I'll thresh you soundly.

Sy. I know your good Humour well enough in that Matter.

Ra. Then it behoves you to look about you, if you are wise.

Sy. But all this while here is not one Word about Dinner.

Ra. Out you Villain, one may see what your Mind runs on. I don't dine at Home, therefore come to me a little before Ten a-Clock, that you may wait upon me where I am to go to Dinner.

Sy. You have taken Care of yourself, but there is not a Bit of Bread for me to put into my Head.

Ra. If you have nothing to eat, you have something to hunger after.

Sy. But Fasting won't fill the Belly.

Ra. There is Bread for you.

Sy. There is so, but it is as black as my Hat, and as coarse as the Bran itself.

Ra. You dainty chap'd Fellow, you ought to be fed with Hay, if you had such Commons as you deserve. What, I warrant you, Mr. Ass, you must be fed with Plumb Cakes, must you? If you can't eat dry Bread, take a Leek to eat with it, or an Onion, if you like that better.

* * * * *

2. Of sending about various Businesses.

Ra. You must go to Market.

Sy. What, so far?

Ra. It is not a Stone's Throw off, but it seems two Miles to such an idle Fellow as you; but however, I'll save you as much Labour as I can, you shall dispatch several Businesses in one Errand; count 'em upon your Fingers, that mayn't forget any of 'em: First of all step to the Salesman, and bring my water'd Camblet Doublet if it be done; then go and enquire for Cornelius the Waggoner, he's commonly at the Sign of the Roe-buck, he uses that House, ask him if he has any Letters for me, and what Day he sets out on his Journey; then go to the Woollen Draper, and tell him from me, not to be uneasy, that I have not sent him the Money at the Time appointed, for he shall have it in a very little Time.

Sy. When? To morrow come never?

Ra. Do you grin you Pimp? Yes, before the first of March: And as you come back, turn on the Left-hand, and go to the Bookseller, and enquire of him, if there be any new Books come out of Germany, learn what they are, and the Price of them; then desire Goclenius, to do me the Honour to come to Supper with me, tell him I must sup by myself if he don't.

Sy. What do you invite Guests too? You han't Victuals enough in the House to give a Mouse a Meal.

Ra. And when you have done all these, go to the Market, and buy a Shoulder of Mutton, and get it nicely roasted: Do you hear this?

Sy. I hear more than I like to hear.

Ra. But take you Care you remember 'em all.

Sy. I shall scarce be able to remember half of 'em.

Ra. What do you stand loytering here, you idle Knave? You might have been back before now.

Sy. What one Person in the World can do all these? Truly I must wait upon him out, and attend upon him home; I'm his Swabber, his Chamberlain, his Footman, his Clerk, his Butler, his Book-keeper, his Brawl, his Errand-boy, and last of all he does not think I have Business enough upon my Hands, unless I am his Cook too.

* * * * *

3. Concerning Riding.

Ra. Bring me my Boots, I am to ride out.

Sy. Here they are, Sir.

Ra. You have look'd after them bravely, they are all over mouldy with lying by; I believe they han't been clean'd nor greased this twelve Months Day; they are so dry, they chap again; wipe them with a wet Cloth, and liquor them well before the Fire, and chafe them till they grow soft.

Sy. It shall be done, Sir.

Ra. Where are my Spurs?

Sy. Here they are.

Ra. Ay, here they are indeed, but all eaten up with Rust. Where is my Bridle and Saddle?

Sy. They are just by.

Ra. See that nothing is wanting or broken, or ready to break, that nothing may be a Hinderance to us, when we are upon our Journey. Run to the Sadlers, and get him to mend that Rein: When you come back, look upon the Horses Feet, and Shoes, and see if there be any Nails wanting, or loose. How lean and rough these Horses are! How often do you rub 'em down, or kemb them in a Year?

Sy. I'm sure I do it every Day?

Ra. That may be seen, I believe they have not had a bit of Victuals for three Days together.

Sy. Indeed they have, Sir.

Ra. You say so, but the Horses would tell me another Tale, if they could but speak: Though indeed their Leanness speaks loud enough.

Sy. Indeed I take all the Care in the World of 'em.

Ra. How comes it about then, that they don't look as well as you do?

Sy. Because I don't eat Hay.

Ra. You have this to do still; make ready my Portmanteau quickly.

Sy. It shall be done.



The SCHOOL-MASTER'S ADMONITIONS.

The ARGUMENT.

The School-master's Instructions teach a Boy Modesty, Civility, and Manners becoming his Age, in what Posture he ought to stand while he talks to his Superiors; concerning Habit, Discourse, and Behaviour at Table and in School.

The School-master and Boy.

Sch. You seem not to have been bred at Court, but in a Cow-stall; you behave yourself so clownishly. A Gentleman ought to behave himself like a Gentleman. As often or whenever any one that is your Superior speaks to you, stand strait, pull off your Hat, and look neither doggedly, surlily, saucily, malapertly, nor unsettledly, but with a staid, modest, pleasant Air in your Countenance, and a bashful Look fix'd upon the Person who speaks to you; your Feet set close one by t'other; your Hands without Action: Don't stand titter, totter, first standing upon one Foot, and then upon another, nor playing with your Fingers, biting your Lip, scratching your Head, or picking your Ears: Let your Cloaths be put on tight and neat, that your whole Dress, Air, Motion and Habit, may bespeak a modest and bashful Temper.

Bo. What if I shall try, Sir?

Ma. Do so.

Bo. Is this right?

Ma. Not quite.

Bo. Must I do so?

Ma. That's pretty well.

Bo. Must I stand so?

Ma. Ay, that's very well, remember that Posture; don't be a Prittle prattle, nor Prate apace, nor be a minding any Thing but what is said to you. If you are to make an Answer, do it in few Words, and to the Purpose, every now and then prefacing with some Title of Respect, and sometimes use a Title of Honour, and now and then make a Bow, especially when you have done speaking: Nor do you go away without asking Leave, or being bid to go: Now come let me see how you can practise this. How long have you been from Home?

Bo. Almost six Months.

Ma. You should have said, Sir.

Bo. Almost six Months, Sir.

Ma. Don't you long to see your Mother?

Bo. Yes, sometimes.

Ma. Have you a Mind to go to see her?

Bo. Yes, with your Leave, Sir.

Ma. Now you should have made a Bow; that's very well, remember to do so; when you speak, don't speak fast, stammer, or speak in your Throat, but use yourself to pronounce your Words distinctly and clearly. If you pass by any ancient Person, a Magistrate, a Minister, or Doctor, or any Person of Figure, be sure to pull off your Hat, and make your Reverence: Do the same when you pass by any sacred Place, or the Image of the Cross. When you are at a Feast, behave yourself chearfully, but always so as to remember what becomes your Age: Serve yourself last; and if any nice Bit be offer'd you, refuse it modestly; but if they press it upon you, take it, and thank the Person, and cutting off a Bit of it, offer the rest either to him that gave it you, or to him that sits next to you. If any Body drinks to you merrily, thank him, and drink moderately. If you don't care to drink, however, kiss the Cup. Look pleasantly upon him that speaks to you; and be sure not to speak till you are spoken to. If any Thing that is obscene be said, don't laugh at it, but keep your Countenance, as though you did not understand it; don't reflect on any Body, nor take place of any Body, nor boast of any Thing of your own, nor undervalue any Thing of another Bodies. Be courteous to your Companions that are your Inferiors; traduce no Body; don't be a Blab with your Tongue, and by this Means you'll get a good Character, and gain Friends without Envy. If the Entertainment shall be long, desire to be excus'd, bid much good may it do the Guests, and withdraw from Table: See that you remember these Things.

Bo. I'll do my Endeavour, Sir. Is there any Thing else you'd have me do?

Ma. Now go to your Books.

Bo. Yes, Sir.



Of VARIOUS PLAYS.

The ARGUMENT.

The Boys sending Cocles their Messenger to their Master, get Leave to go to Play; who shews that moderate Recreations are very necessary both for Mind and Body. The Master admonishes them that they keep together at Play, &c. 1. Of playing at Stool-ball: Of chusing Partners. 2. Of playing at Bowls, the Orders of the Bowling-Green. 3. Of playing at striking a Ball through an Iron Ring. 4. Of Dancing, that they should not dance presently after Dinner: Of playing at Leap-frog: Of Running: Of Swimming.

NICHOLAS, JEROME, COCLES, the MASTER.

Nic. I have had a great Mind a good While, and this fine Weather is a great Invitation to go to Play.

Jer. These indeed invite you, but the Master don't.

Nic. We must get some Spokesman that may extort a Holiday from him.

Jer. You did very well to say extort, for you may sooner wrest Hercules's Club out of his Hands than get a Play-day from him; but Time was when Nobody lov'd Play better than he did.

Nic. That is true, but he has forgot a great While ago since he was a Boy himself; he is as ready and free at whipping as any Body, but as sparing and backward at this as any Body in the World.

Jer. We must pick out a Messenger that is not very bashful that won't be presently dashed out of Countenance by his surly Words.

Nic. Let who will go for me, I had rather go without Play than ask him for it.

Jer. There is Nobody fitter for this Business than Cocles.

Nic. Nobody in the World, he has a good bold Face of his own, and Tongue enough; and besides, he knows his Humour too.

Jer. Go, Cocles, you will highly oblige us all.

Coc. Well, I'll try; but if I do not succeed, do not lay the Fault on your Spokesman.

Jer. You promise well for it, I am out in my Opinion if you don't get Leave. Go on Intreater, and return an Obtainer.

Coc. I'll go, may Mercury send me good Luck of my Errand. God save you, Sir.

Ma. What does this idle Pack want?

Coc. Your Servant, Reverend Master.

Ma. This is a treacherous Civility! I am well enough already. Tell me what 'tis you came for.

Coc. Your whole School beg a Play-day.

Ma. You do nothing else but play, even without Leave.

Coc. Your Wisdom knows that moderate Play quickens the Wit, as you have taught us out of Quintilian.

Ma. Very well, how well you can remember what's to your purpose? They that labour hard, had need of some Relaxation: But you that study idly, and play laboriously, had more need of a Curb, than a Snaffle.

Coc. If any Thing has been wanting in Times past, we'll labour to make it up by future Diligence.

Ma. O rare Makers up! who will be Sureties for the performing this Promise?

Coc. I'll venture my Head upon it.

Ma. Nay, rather venture your Tail. I know there is but little Dependance upon your Word; but however, I'll try this Time what Credit may be given to you; if you deceive me now, you shall never obtain any Thing from me again. Let 'em play; but let them keep together in the Field, don't let them go a tippling or worse Exercises, and see they come Home betimes, before Sun set.

Coc. We will, Sir, I have gotten Leave, but with much a do.

Jer. O brave Lad! we all love you dearly.

Coc. But we must be sure not to transgress our Orders, for if we do, it will be all laid upon my Back; I have engaged for ye all, and if ye do, I'll never be your Spokesman again.

Jer. We'll take Care: But what Play do you like best?

Coc. We'll talk of that when we come into the Fields.

* * * * *

I. Of playing at Ball.

NICHOLAS and JEROME.

Nic. No Play is better to exercise all Parts of the Body than Stool-ball; but that's fitter for Winter than Summer.

Jer. There is no Time of the Year with us, but what's fit to play in.

Nic. We shall sweat less, if we play at Tennis.

Jer. Let's let Nets alone to Fishermen; it's prettier to catch it in our Hands.

Nic. Well, come on, I don't much Matter; but how much shall we play for?

Nic. But I had rather spare my Corps than my Money.

Jer. And I value my Corps more than my Money: We must play for something, or we shall never play our best.

Nic. You say true.

Jer. Which Hand soever shall get the first three Games, shall pay the sixth Part of a Groat to the other; but upon Condition that what's won shall be spent among all the Company alike.

Nic. Well, I like the Proposal; come done, let's chuse Hands; but we are all so equally match'd, that it's no great Matter who and who's together.

Jer. You play a great Deal better than I.

Nic. But for all that, you have the better Luck.

Jer. Has Fortune anything to do at this Play?

Nic. She has to do everywhere.

Jer. Well, come let's toss up. O Boys, very well indeed. I have got the Partners I would have.

Nic. And we like our Partners very well.

Jer. Come on, now for't, he that will win, must look to his Game. Let every one stand to his Place bravely. Do you stand behind me ready to catch the Ball, if it goes beyond me; do you mind there, and beat it back when it comes from our Adversaries.

Nic. I'll warrant ye, I'll hit it if it comes near me.

Jer. Go on and prosper, throw up the Ball upon the House. He that throws and do's not speak first shall lose his Cast.

Nic. Well, take it then.

Jer. Do you toss it; if you throw it beyond the Bounds, or short, or over the House, it shall go for nothing, and we won't be cheated: And truly you throw nastily. As you toss it, I'll give it you again; I'll give you a Rowland for an Oliver; but it is better to play fairly and honestly.

Nic. It is best at Diversion, to beat by fair Play.

Jer. It is so, and in War too; these Arts have each their respective Laws: There are some Arts that are very unfair ones.

Nic. I believe so too, and more than seven too. Mark the Bounds with a Shell, or Brick-bat, or with your Hat if you will.

Jer. I'd rather do it with yours.

Nic. Take the Ball again.

Jer. Throw it; score it up.

Nic. We have two good wide Goals.

Jer. Pretty wide, but they are not out of Reach.

Nic. They may be reach'd if no Body hinders it.

Jer. O brave, I have gone beyond the first Goal. We are fifteen. Play stoutly, we had got this too, if you had stood in your Place. Well, now we are equal.

Nic. But you shan't be so long. Well, we are thirty; we are forty five.

Jer. What, Sesterces?

Nic. No.

Jer. What then?

Nic. Numbers.

Jer. What signifies Numbers, if you have nothing to pay?

Nic. We have gotten this Game.

Jer. You are a little too hasty; you reckon your Chickens before they are hatch'd. I have seen those lose the Game that have had so many for Love. War and Play is a meer Lottery. We have got thirty, now we are equal again.

Nic. This is the Game Stroke. O brave! we have got the better of you.

Jer. Well, but you shan't have it long; did I not say so? We are equally fortunate.

Nic. Fortune inclines first to one side, and then to t'other, as if she could not tell which to give the Victory to. Fortune, be but on our Side, and we'll help thee to a Husband. O rare! She has answer'd her Desire, we have got this Game, set it up, that we mayn't forget.

Jer. It is almost Night, and we have play'd enough, we had better leave off, too much of one Thing is good for nothing, let us reckon our Winnings.

Nic. We have won three Groats, and you have won two; then there is one to be spent. But who must pay for the Balls?

Jer. All alike, every one his Part. For there is so little won, we can't take any Thing from that.

* * * * *

2. BOWL PLAYING.

ADOLPHUS, BERNARDUS, the Arbitrators.

Adol. You have been often bragging what a mighty Gamester you were at Bowls. Come now, I have a Mind to try what a one you are.

Ber. I'll answer you, if you have a Mind to that Sport. Now you'll find according to the Proverb; You have met with your Match.

Adol. Well, and you shall find I am a Match for you too.

Ber. Shall we play single Hands or double Hands?

Adol. I had rather play single, that another may not come in with me for a Share of the Victory.

Ber. And I had rather have it so too, that the Victory may be entirely my own.

Adol. They shall look on, and be Judges.

Ber. I take you up; But what shall he that beats get, or he that is beaten lose?

Adol. What if he that beats shall have a Piece of his Ear cut off.

Ber. Nay, rather let one of his Stones be cut out. It is a mean Thing to play for Money; you are a Frenchman, and I a German, we'll both play for the Honour of his Country.

Adol. If I shall beat you, you shall cry out thrice, let France flourish; If I shall be beat (which I hope I shan't) I'll in the same Words celebrate your Germany.

Ber. Well, a Match. Now for good Luck; since two great Nations are at Stake in this Game, let the Bowls be both alike.

Adol. Do you see that Stone that lies by the Port there.

Ber. Yes I do.

Adol. That shall be the Jack.

Ber. Very well, let it be so; but I say let the Bowls be alike.

Adol. They are as like as two Peas. Take which you please, it's all one to me.

Ber. Bowl away.

Adol. Hey-day, you whirl your Bowl as if your Arm was a Sling.

Ber. You have bit your Lip, and whirled your Bowl long enough: Come bowl away. A strong Bowl indeed, but I am best.

Adol. If it had not been for that mischievous Bit of a Brick-bat there, that lay in my Way, I had beat you off.

Ber. Stand fair.

Adol. I won't cheat: I intend to beat you, by Art, and not to cheat ye, since we contend for the Prize of Honour: Rub, rub.

Ber. A great Cast in Troth.

Adol. Nay, don't laugh before you've won. We are equal yet.

Ber. This is who shall: He that first hits the Jack is up. I have beat you, sing.

Adol. Stay, you should have said how many you'd make up, for my Hand is not come in yet.

Ber. Judgment, Gentlemen.

Arbitr. 3.

Adol. Very well.

Ber. Well, what do you say now? Are you beat or no?

Adol. You have had better Luck than I, but yet I won't vail to you, as to Strength and Art; I'll stand to what the Company says.

Arb. The German has beat, and the Victory is the more glorious, that he has beat so good a Gamester.

Ber. Now Cock, crow.

Adol. I am hoarse.

Ber. That's no new Thing to Cocks; but if you can't crow like an old Cock, crow like a Cockeril.

Adol. Let Germany flourish thrice.

Ber. You ought to have said so thrice. I am a-dry; let us drink somewhere, I'll make an end of the Song there.

Adol. I won't stand upon that, if the Company likes it.

Arb. That will be the best, the Cock will crow clearer when his Throat is gargled.

* * * * *

_3. The Play of striking a Ball through an Iron Ring.

GASPAR, ERASMUS.

Gas._ Come, let's begin, _Marcolphus_ shall come in, in the Losers Place.

Er. But what shall we play for?

Gas. He that is beat shall make and repeat extempore a Distich, in Praise of him that beat him.

Er. With all my Heart.

Gas. Shall we toss up who shall go first?

Er. Do you go first if you will, I had rather go last.

Gas. You have the better of me, because you know the Ground.

Er. You're upon your own Ground.

Gas. Indeed I am better acquainted with the Ground, than I am with my Books; but that's but a small Commendation.

Er. You that are so good a Gamester ought to give me Odds.

Gas. Nay, you should rather give me Odds; but there's no great Honour in getting a Victory, when Odds is taken: He only can properly be said to get the Game, that gets it by his own Art; we are as well match'd as can be.

Er. Yours is a better Ball than mine.

Gas. And yours is beyond me.

Er. Play fair, without cheating and cozening.

Gas. You shall say you have had to do with a fair Gamester.

Er. But I would first know the Orders of the Bowling-alley.

Gas. We make 4 up; whoever bowls beyond this Line it goes for nothing; if you can go beyond those other Bounds, do it fairly and welcome: Whoever hits a Bowl out of his Place loses his Cast.

Er. I understand these Things.

Gas. I have shut you out.

Er. But I'll give you a Remove.

Gas. If you do that I'll give you the Game.

Er. Will you upon your Word?

Gas. Yes, upon my Word: You have no other Way for it but to bank your Bowl so as to make it rebound on mine.

Er. I'll try: Well, what say you now Friend? Are not you beaten away? (Have I not struck you away?)

Gas. I am, I confess it; I wish you were but as wise as you are lucky; you can scarce do so once in a hundred Times.

Er. I'll lay you, if you will, that I do it once in three Times. But come pay me what I have won.

Gas. What's that?

Er. Why, a Distich.

Gas. Well, I'll pay it now.

Er. And an extempore one too. Why do you bite your Nails?

Gas. I have it.

Er. Recite it out.

Gas. As loud as you will.

Young Standers-by, dap ye the Conqueror brave, Who me has beat, is the more learned Knave.

Han't you a Distich now?

Er. I have, and I'll give you as good as you bring.

* * * * *

4. Leaping.

VINCENT, LAURENCE.

Vi. Have you a Mind to jump with me?

Lau. That Play is not good presently after Dinner.

Vi. Why so?

Lau. Because that a Fulness of Belly makes the Body heavy.

Vi. Not very much to those that live upon Scholars Commons, for these oftentimes are ready for a Supper before they have done Dinner.

Lau. What Sort of leaping is it that you like best?

Vi. Let us first begin with that which is the plainest, as that of Grasshoppers; or Leap-frog, if you like that better, both Feet at once, and close to one another; and when we have play'd enough at this, then we'll try other Sorts.

Lau. I'll play at any Sort, where there is no Danger of breaking ones Legs; I have no Mind to make Work for the Surgeon.

Vi. What if we should play at hopping?

Lau. That the Ghosts play, I am not for that.

Vi. It's the cleverest Way to leap with a Pole.

Lau. Running is a more noble Exercise; for AEneas in Virgil proposed this Exercise.

Vi. Very true, and he also propos'd the righting with Whirly-bats too, and I don't like that Sport.

Lau. Mark the Course, let this be the Starting-place, and yonder Oak the Goal.

Vi. I wish AEneas was here, that he might propose what should be the Conqueror's Prize.

Lau. Glory is a Reward sufficient for Victory.

Vi. You should rather give a Reward to him that is beat, to comfort him.