SCHOLASTIC STUDIES.

The ARGUMENT

This Colloquy treats of scholastic Studies, and School Plays, I. The Boys going into the School. The striking of a Clock. A whipping Master. Of saying a Lesson. Fear hurts the Memory. 2. Of Writing, the Paper sinks. Of making a Pen. Of a hard Nip. A soft Nip. Of writing quick, well.

SYLVIUS, JOHN.

Sy. What makes you run so, John?

Jo. What makes a Hare run before the Dogs, as they use to say?

Sy. What Proverb is this?

Jo. Because unless I am there in Time, before the Bill is called over, I am sure to be whipp'd.

Sy. You need not be afraid of that, it is but a little past five: Look upon the Clock, the Hand is not come to the half Hour Point yet.

Jo. Ay, but I can scarce trust to Clocks, they go wrong sometimes.

Sy. But trust me then, I heard the Clock strike.

Jo. What did that strike?

Sy. Five.

Jo. But there is something else that I am more afraid of than that, I must say by Heart a good long Lesson for Yesterday, and I am afraid I can't say it.

Sy. I am in the same Case with you; for I myself have hardly got mine as it should be.

Jo. And you know the Master's Severity. Every Fault is a Capital one with him: He has no more Mercy of our Breeches, than if they were made of a Bull's Hide.

Sy. But he won't be in the School.

Jo. Who has he appointed in his Place?

Sy. Cornelius.

Jo. That squint-ey'd Fellow! Wo to our Back-Sides, he's a greater Whip-Master than Busby himself.

Sy. You say very true, and for that Reason I have often wish'd he had a Palsy in his Arm.

Jo. It is not pious to wish ill to ones Master: it is our Business rather to take Care not to fall under the Tyrant's Hands.

Sy. Let us say one to another, one repeating and the other looking in the Book.

Jo. That's well thought on.

Sy. Come, be of good Heart; for Fear spoils the Memory.

Jo. I could easily lay aside Fear, if I were out of Danger; but who can be at Ease in his Mind, that is in so much Danger.

Sy. I confess so; but we are not in Danger of our Heads, but of our Tails.

* * * * *

2. Of Writing.

CORNELIUS, ANDREW.

Co. You write finely, but your Paper sinks. Your Paper is damp, and the Ink sinks through it.

An. Pray make me a Pen of this.

Co. I have not a Pen-knife.

An. Here is one for you.

Co. Out on't, how blunt it is!

An. Take the Hoan.

Co. Do you love to write with a hard-nip'd Pen, or a soft?

An. Make it fit for your own Hand.

Co. I use to write with a soft Nip.

An. Pray write me out the Alphabet.

Co. Greek or Latin?

An. Write me the Latin first; I'll try to imitate it.

Co. Give me some Paper then.

An. Take some.

Co. But my Ink is too thin, by often pouring in of Water.

An. But my Cotton is quite dry.

Co. Squeeze it, or else piss in it.

An. I had rather get some Body to give me some.

Co. It is better to have of one's own, than to borrow.

An. What's a Scholar without Pen and Ink?

Co. The same that a Soldier is without Shield or Sword.

An. I wish my Fingers were so nimble, I can't write as fast as another speaks.

Co. Let it be your first chief Care to write well, and your next to write quick: No more Haste than good Speed.

An. Very well; say to the Master when he dictates, no more Haste than good Speed.

* * * * *

_A Form of giving Thanks.

PETER, CHRISTIAN._

Pe. You have oblig'd me, in that you have written to me sometimes. I thank you for writing to me often. I love you, that you have not thought much to send me now and then a Letter. I give you Thanks that you have visited me with frequent Letters. I thank you for loading of me with Packets of Letters. I thank you heartily that you have now and then provoked me with Letters. You have oblig'd me very much that you have honour'd me with your Letters. I am much beholden to you for your most obliging Letters to me. I take it as a great Favour, that you have not thought much to write to me.

The Answer.

Ch. Indeed I ought to beg Pardon for my Presumption, who dar'd presume to trouble a Man of so much Business, and so much Learning with my unlearned Letters. I acknowledge your usual Humanity, who have taken my Boldness in good Part. I was afraid my Letters had given you some Offence, that you sent me no Answer. There is no Reason that you should thank me, it is more than enough for me, if you have taken my Industry in good Part.

* * * * *

A Form of asking after News.

Pe. Is there no News come from our Country? Have you had any News from our Countrymen? What News? Do you bring any News? Is there any News come to Town? Is there any News abroad from our Country?

The Answer.

Ch. There is much News; but nothing of Truth. News enough indeed; but nothing certain. A great deal of News; but nothing to be depended upon. Not a little News; but not much Truth. There is no News come. I have had no News at all. Something of News; but nothing certain. There are a great many Reports come to Town; but they are all doubtful. There is a great deal of Talk; but nothing true, nothing certain. If Lies please, I have brought you a whole Cart-Load of them. I bring you whole Bushels of Tales. I bring you as many Lies as a good Ship will carry.

Pe. Then unlade yourself as fast as you can, for fear you should sink, being so over-freighted.

Ch. I have nothing but what's the Chat of Barbers Shops, Coaches and Boats.

Han't you received any Letters. The Form.

Pe. Have you had no Letters? Have you had any Letters out of your own Country? Have no Letters been brought to you? Have you receiv'd any Letters? Have you had any Letters? Have you receiv'd any Letters from your Friends? Are there no Letters come from France?

The Answer.

Ch. I have received no Letters. I han't had so much as a Letter. I han't had the least Bit of a Letter. No Body has sent me any Letter. There is not the least Word come from any Body. I have received no more Letters for this long Time, than what you see in my Eye. Indeed I had rather have Money than Letters. I had rather receive Money than Letters. I don't matter Letters, so the Money does but come. I had rather be paid, than be written to.

* * * * *

I believe so. The Form.

Pe. I easily believe you. That is not hard to be believ'd. It is a very easy Thing to believe that. Who would not believe you in that? He will be very incredulous, that won't believe you in that Matter. In Truth I do believe you. You will easily make me believe that. I can believe you without swearing. What you say is very likely. But for all that, Letters bring some Comfort. I had rather have either of them, than neither.

* * * * *

Of Profit. A Form.

Ch. What signifies Letters without Money? What signifies empty Letters? What do empty Letters avail? What good do they do, what do they profit, advantage? To whom are Letters grateful or acceptable without Money? What Advantage do empty Letters bring? What are idle Letters good for? What do they do? What use are they of? What are they good for? What do they bring with them of Moment? What Use are empty Letters of?

The Answer.

Pe. They are useful, fit, proper, to wipe your Breech with. They are good to wipe your Backside with. If you don't know the Use of them, they are good to wipe your Arse with. To wipe your Breech with. To wipe your Backside with. They are good to cleanse that Part of the Body that often fouls itself. They are good to wrap Mackrel in. Good to make up Grocery Ware in.

* * * * *

Of wishing well.

1. To a Man whose Wife is with Child.

Pe. What? are our little Friends well? How does your Wife do?

Ch. Very well, I left her with her Mother, and with Child.

Pe. I wish it may be well for you, and her too: To you, because you're shortly to be a Father, and she a Mother. God be with you. I pray and desire that it may be prosperous and happy to you both. I pray, I beg of God that she, having a safe Delivery, may bear a Child worthy of you both; and may make you a Father of a fine Child. I commend you that you have shewed yourself to be a Man. I am glad you have prov'd yourself to be a Man. You have shew'd yourself to be a Gallus, but not Cybele's. Now you may go, I believe you are a Man.

Ch. You joke upon me, as you are used to do. Well, go on, you may say what you please to me.

* * * * *

2. To one coming Home into his own Country.

Ch. I hear, you have lately been in your own Country.

Pe. I have so, I had been out of it a pretty While. I could not bear to be out of it long. I could not bear to be out of my Parents Sight any longer. I thought it long till I enjoy'd my Friends Company.

Ch. You have acted very piously. You are very good Humour'd, to think of those Matters. We have all a strange Affection for the Country that hath bred us, and brought us forth.

As Ovid says:

Nescio quâ natale solum dulcedine cunctos Ducit, et immemores non sinit esse sui.

Pray tell me how did you find all Things there.

* * * * *

All Things new. The Form.

Pe. Nothing but what was new. All Things changed, all Things become new. See how soon Time changes all human Affairs. Methought I came into another World. I had scarce been absent ten Years, and yet I admired at every Thing, as much as Epimenides the Prince of Sleepers, when he first wak'd out of his Sleep.

Ch. What Story is that? What Fable is that?

Pe. I'll tell you if you are at Leisure.

Ch. There is nothing more pleasant.

Pe. Then order me a Chair and a Cushion.

Ch. That's very well thought on, for you will tell Lyes the better, sitting at Ease.

Pe. Historians tell us a Story, of one Epimenides a Man of Crete, who taking a Walk alone by himself without the City, being caught in a hasty Shower of Rain, went for Shelter into a Cave, and there fell asleep, and slept on for seven and forty Years together.

I don't believe it. The Form.

Ch. What a Story you tell? 'Tis incredible. What you say is not very likely. You tell me a Fiction. I don't think 'tis true. You tell me a monstrous Story. Are you not asham'd to be guilty of so wicked a Lye? This is a Fable fit to be put among Lucian's Legends.

Pe. Nay, I tell you what is related by Authors of Credit, unless you think Aulus Gellius is not an Author of approv'd Credit.

Ch. Nay, whatsoever he has written are Oracles to me.

Pe. Do you think that a Divine dream'd so many Years? For it is storied that he was a Divine.

Ch. I am with Child to hear.

The Answer.

Pe. What is it more than what Scotus and the School-men did afterwards? But Epimenides, he came off pretty well, he came to himself again at last; but a great many Divines never wake out of their Dreams.

Ch. Well go on, you do like a Poet; But go on with your Lye.

Pe. Epimenides waking out of his Sleep, goes out of his Cave, and looks about him, and sees all Things chang'd, the Woods, the Banks, the Rivers, the Trees, the Fields; and, in short, there was nothing but was new: He goes to the City, and enquires; he stays there a little While, but knows no Body, nor did any Body know him: the Men were dress'd after another Fashion, than what they were before; they had not the same Countenances; their Speech was alter'd, and their Manners quite different: Nor do I wonder it was so with Epimenides, after so many Years, when it was almost so with me, when I had been absent but a few Years.

Ch. But how do your Father and Mother do? Are they living?

Pe. They are both alive and well; but pretty much worn out with old Age, Diseases, and lastly, with the Calamities of War.

Ch. This is the Comedy of human Life. This is the inevitable Law of Destiny.

* * * * *

Words, Names of Affinity.

Pe. Will you sup at Home to Day?

Ch. I am to sup abroad: I must go out to Supper.

Pe. With whom?

Ch. With my Father in Law; with my Son in Law; at my Daughter's in Law; with my Kinsman. They are call'd, Affines, Kinsmen, who are ally'd not by Blood, but Marriage.

Pe. What are the usual Names of Affinity?

Ch. A Husband and Wife are noted Names. Socer, Is my Wife's Father. Gener, My Daughter's Husband. Socrus, My Wife's Mother. Nurus, My Son's Wife. Levir, A Husband's Brother. Levir is call'd by the Wife, as Helen calls Hector, Levir, because she was married to Paris. Fratria, My Brother's Wife. Glos, A Husband's Sister. Vitricus, My Mother's Husband. Noverca, My Father's Wife. Privignus, The Son of my Wife or Husband. Privigna, The Daughter of either of them. Rivalis, He that loves the same Woman another does. Pellex, She that loves the same Man another does; as Thraso is the Rival of Phroedria, and Europa the Pellex of Juno.

* * * * *

Of inviting to a Feast.

Dine with me to Morrow.

Pe. I give you Thanks, I commend you, I invite you to Supper against to Morrow, I entreat your Company at Supper to Morrow. I desire you'd come to Dinner with me to Morrow. I would have your Company at Dinner to Morrow.

I fear I can't come.

Ch. I fear I can't. I am afraid I can't. I will come if I can; but I am afraid I can't.

Why?

Pe. Why can't you? How so? Why so? Wherefore? For what Reason? For what Cause? What hinders you that you can't.

I must stay at Home.

Ch. Indeed I must be at Home at that Time. I must needs be at Home at Night. I must not be abroad at that Time. I shall not have an Opportunity to go out any where to Morrow. I must not be absent at Dinner. I expect some Guests myself upon that Day. Some Friends have made an Appointment to sup at our House that Night. I have some Guests to entertain that Night, or else I would come with all my Heart. Unless it were so, I would not be unwilling to come. If it were not so, I should not want much entreating. I would make no Excuse if I could come. If I could come, I would not be ask'd twice. If I could by any Means come, I would come with a very little, or without any Invitation at all. If I could, I would obey your Command very readily. It is in vain to ask one that is not at his own Disposal: And there would be no need to ask me if I could come: But at present, though I had never so much Mind, I can't; and it would be altogether unnecessary to ask one that is willing.

Pe. Then pray let me have your Company the next Day after: However, I must needs have your Company at Supper the next Day after to Morrow. You must not deny me your Company four Days hence. You must make no Excuse as to coming next Thursday.

I can't promise.

Ch. I can't promise. I cannot positively promise you. I can't certainly promise you. I will come when it shall be most convenient for us both.

You ought to set the Day.

Pe. I would have you appoint a Day when you will come to sup with me. You must assign a Day. You must set the Day. I desire a certain Day may be prefix'd, prescrib'd, appointed, set; but set a certain Day. I would have you tell me the Day.

I would not have you know before Hand.

Ch. Indeed I don't use to set a Day for my Friends. I am used to set a Day for those I'm at Law with. I would not have you know before Hand. I'll take you at unawares. I'll come unexpectedly. I will catch you when you don't think on me. I shall take you when you don't think on me. I'll come unlooked for. I'll come upon you before you are aware. I'll come an uninvited and unexpected Guest.

I would know before Hand.

Pe. I would know two Days before Hand. Give me Notice two Days before you come. Make me acquainted two Days before.

Ch. If you will have me, I'll make a Sybaritical Appointment, that you may have Time enough to provide afore Hand.

Pe. What Appointment is that?

Ch. The Sybarites invited their Guests against the next Year, that they might both have Time to be prepar'd.

Pe. Away with the Sybarites, and their troublesome Entertainments: I invite an old Chrony, and not a Courtier.

You desire to your own Detriment.

Ch. Indeed 'tis to your Detriment. Indeed 'tis to your own Harm. To your own Loss. You wish for it. You pray for that to your own Ill-convenience.

Pe. Why so? Wherefore.

Ch. I'll come provided. I'll come prepar'd. I'll set upon you accoutred. I'll come furnish'd with a sharp Stomach; do you take Care that you have enough to satisfy a Vulture. I'll prepare my Belly and whet my Teeth; do you look to it, to get enough to satisfy a Wolf.

Pe. Come and welcome, I dare you to it. Come on, if you can do any Thing, do it to your utmost, with all your Might.

Ch. I'll come, but I won't come alone.

Pe. You shall be the more welcome for that; but who will you bring with you?

Ch. My Umbra.

Pe. You can't do otherwise if you come in the Day Time.

Ch. Ay, but I'll bring one Umbra or two that have got Teeth, that you shan't have invited me for nothing.

Pe. Well, do as you will, so you don't bring any Ghosts along with you. But if you please explain what is the Meaning of the Word Umbra.

Ch. Among the Learned they are call'd Umbræ, who being uninvited, bear another Person, that is invited, Company to a Feast.

Pe. Well, bring such Ghosts along with you as many as you will.

* * * * *

I promise upon this Condition.

Ch. Well, I will come, but upon this Condition, that you shall come to Supper with me the next Day. I will do it upon this Condition that you shall be my Guest afterwards. Upon that Condition I promise to come to Supper, that you again shall be my Guest. I promise I will, but upon these Terms, that you in the like Manner shall be my Guest the next Day. I promise I will, I give you my Word I will, upon this Consideration, that you dine with me the next Day.

Pe. Come on, let it be done, let it be so. It shall be as you would have it. If you command me, I'll do it. I know the French Ambition, You won't sup with me, but you'll make me Amends for it. And so by this Means Feasts use to go round. From hence it comes to pass, that it is a long Time before we have done feasting one with another. By this Interchangeableness Feasts become reciprocal without End.

Ch. It is the pleasantest Way of Living in the World, if no more Provision be made, but what is used to be made daily. But, I detain you, it may be, when you are going some whither.

Pe. Nay, I believe, I do you. But we'll talk more largely and more freely to Morrow. But we'll divert ourselves to Morrow more plentifully. In the mean Time take Care of your Health. In the mean Time take Care to keep yourself in good Health. Farewell till then.

* * * * *

Whither are you going? The Form.

Ch. Where are you a going now? Whither are you going so fast? Where are you a going in such great Haste. Whither go you? What's your Way?

* * * * *

I go Home. The Form.

Pe. I go Home. I return Home. I go to see what they are a doing at Home. I go to call a Doctor. I am going into the Country. I made an Appointment just at this Time to go to speak with a certain great Man. I made an Appointment to meet a great Man at this Time.

Ch. Whom?

Pe. Talkative Curio.

Ch. I wish you Mercury's Assistance.

Pe. What need of Mercury's Assistance?

Ch. Because you have to do with a Man of Words.

Pe. Then it were more proper to wish the Assistance of the Goddess Memoria.

Ch. Why so?

Pe. Because you'll have more Occasion for patient Ears, than a strenuous Tongue. And the Ear is dedicated to the Goddess Memoria.

Ch. Whither are you going? Whither will you go?

Pe. This Way, to the left Hand. This Way, that Way, through the Market.

Ch. Then I'll bear you Company as far as the next Turning.

Pe. I won't let you go about. You shan't put yourself to so much Trouble on my Account. Save that Trouble till it shall be of Use, it is altogether unnecessary at this Time. Don't go out of your Way upon my Account.

Ch. I reckon I save my Time while I enjoy the Company of so good a Friend. I have nothing else to do, and I am not so lazy, if my Company won't be troublesome.

Pe. No Body is a more pleasant Companion. But I won't suffer you to go on my left Hand. I won't let you walk on my left Hand. Here I bid God be with you. I shall not bear you Company any longer. You shan't go further with me.

* * * * *

A Form of Recommending.

Ch. Recommend me kindly to Curio. Recommend me as kindly as may be to talkative Curio. Take Care to recommend me heartily to Curio. I desire you have me recommended to him. I recommend myself to him by you. I recommend myself to you again and again. I recommend myself to your Favour with all the Earnestness possible. Leave recommendo instead of commendo to Barbarians. See that you don't be sparing of your Speech with one that is full of Tongue. See that you be not of few Words with him that is a Man of many Words.

* * * * *

A Form of Obsequiousness.

Pe. Would you have me obey you? Would you have me be obedient? Shall I obey you? Then you command me to imitate you. Since you would have it so, I'll do it with all my Heart. Don't hinder me any longer; don't let us hinder one another.

Ch. But before you go, I intreat you not to think much to teach me how I must use these Sentences, in morâ, in causâ, in culpâ; you use to be studious of Elegancy. Wherefore come on, I entreat you teach me; explain it to me, I love you dearly.

* * * * *

In Culpâ, In Causâ, In Morâ.

Pe. I must do as you would have me. The Fault is not in me. It is not in thee. The Delay is in thee. Thou art the Cause, is indeed grammatically spoken; these are more elegant.

In Culpâ.

I am not in the Fault. The Fault is not mine. I am without Fault. Your Idleness has been the Cause, that you have made no Proficiency, not your Master nor your Father. You are all in Fault. You are both in Fault. You are both to be blam'd. Ye are both to be accus'd. You have gotten this Distemper by your own ill Management. In like Manner they are said to be in vitio, to whom the Fault is to be imputed; and in crimine, they who are to be blam'd; and in damno, who are Losers. This sort of Phrase is not to be inverted commonly; Damnum in illo est. Vitium in illo est.

* * * * *

In Causâ.

Sickness has been the Occasion that I have not written to you. My Affairs have been the Cause that I have written to you so seldom, and not Neglect. What was the Cause? What Cause was there? I was not the Cause. The Post-Man was in the Fault that you have had no Letters from me. Love and not Study is the Cause of your being so lean. This is the Cause.

In Morâ.

I won't hinder you. What has hinder'd you? You have hindred us. You are always a Hindrance. What hindred you? Who has hindred you? You have what you ask'd for. It is your Duty to remember it. You have the Reward of your Respect. Farewell, my Christian.

Ch. And fare you well till to Morrow, my Peter.

* * * * *

At Meeting.

CHRISTIAN, AUSTIN.

Ch. God save you heartily, sweet Austin.

Au. I wish the same to you, most kind Christian. Good Morrow to you. I wish you a good Day; but how do you do?

Ch. Very well as Things go, and I wish you what you wish for.

Au. I love you deservedly. I love thee. Thou deservest to be lov'd heartily. Thou speakest kindly. Thou art courteous. I give thee Thanks.

* * * * *

I am angry with thee. The Form.

Ch. But I am something angry with you. But I am a little angry with you. But I am a little provok'd at you. I have something to be angry with you for.

* * * * *

For what Cause. The Form.

Au. I pray what is it? Why so? But why, I beseech you? What Crime have I committed? What have I done? Promereor bona, I deserve Good; Commereor mala, I deserve Ill, or Punishment: The one is used in a good Sense, and the other in an ill. Demeremur eum, is said of him that we have attach'd to us by Kindness.

* * * * *

Because you don't Regard me.

Ch. Because you take no Care of me. Because you don't regard me. Because you come to see us so seldom. Because you wholly neglect us. Because you quite neglect me. Because you seem to have cast off all Care of us.

Au. But there is no Cause for you to be angry. But you are angry without my Desert, and undeservedly; for it has not been my Fault, that I have come to see you but seldom: Forgive my Hurry of Business that has hindered me from seeing you, as often as I would have done.

Ch. I will pardon you upon this Condition, if you'll come to Supper with me to Night. I'll quit you upon that Condition, if you come to Supper with me in the Evening.

Au. Christian, you prescribe no hard Articles of Peace, and therefore I'll come with all my Heart. Indeed I will do it willingly. Indeed I would do that with all Readiness in the World. I shan't do that unwillingly. I won't want much Courting to that. There is nothing in the World that I would do with more Readiness. I will do it with a willing Mind.

Ch. I commend your obliging Temper in this, and in all other Things.

Au. I use always to be thus obsequious to my Friends, especially when they require nothing but what's reasonable. O ridiculous! Do you think I would refuse when offer'd me, that which I should have ask'd for of my own Accord?

* * * * *

Don't deceive me. The Form.

Ch. Well, but take Care you don't delude me. See you don't deceive me. Take Care you don't make me feed a vain Hope. See you don't fail my Expectation. See you don't disappoint me. See you don't lull me on with a vain Hope.

Au. There is no Need to swear. In other Things, in other Matters you may be afraid of Perfidy. In this I won't deceive you. But hark you, see that you provide nothing but what you do daily: I would have no holy Day made upon my Account. You know that I am a Guest that am no great Trencher Man, but a very merry Man.

Ch. I'll be sure to take Care. I will entertain you with Scholars Commons, if not with slenderer Fare.

Au. Nay, if you'd please me, let it be with Diogenes's Fare.

Ch. You may depend upon it, I will treat you with a Platonick Supper, in which you shall have a great many learned Stories, and but a little Meat, the Pleasure of which shall last till the next Day: whereas they that have been nobly entertain'd, enjoy perhaps a little Pleasure that Day, but the next are troubled with the Head-ach, and Sickness at the Stomach. He that supp'd with Plato, had one Pleasure from the easy Preparation, and Philosopher's Stories; and another the next Day, that his Head did not ach, and that his Stomach was not sick, and so had a good Dinner of the sauce of last Night's Supper.

Au. I like it very well, let it be as you have said.

Ch. Do you see that you leave all your Cares and melancholy Airs at Home, and bring nothing hither but Jokes and Merriment; and as Juvenal says,

_Protenus ante meum, quicquid dolet, exue limen.

Lay all that troubles you down before my Door, before you come into it._

Au. What? Would you have me bring no Learning along with me? I will bring my Muses with me, unless you think it not convenient.

Ch. Shut up your ill-natured Muses at Home with your Business, but bring your good-natured Muses, all your witty Jests, your By-words, your Banters, your Pleasantries, your pretty Sayings, and all your Ridiculosities along with you.

Au. I'll do as you bid me; put on all my best Looks. We'll be merry Fellows. We'll laugh our Bellies full. We'll make much of ourselves. We'll feast jovially. We'll play the Epicureans. We'll set a good Face on't, and be boon Blades. These are fine Phrases of clownish Fellows that have a peculiar Way of speaking to themselves.

Ch. Where are you going so fast?

Au. To my Son's in Law.

Ch. What do you do there? Why thither? What do you with him?

Au. I hear there is Disturbance among them; I am going to make them Friends again, to bring them to an Agreement; to make Peace among them.

Ch. You do very well, though I believe they don't want you; for they will make the Matter up better among themselves.

Au. Perhaps there is a Cessation of Arms, and the Peace is to be concluded at Night. But have you any Thing else to say to me?

Ch. I will send my Boy to call you.

Au. When you please. I shall be at Home. Farewell.

Ch. I wish you well. See that you be here by five a-Clock. Soho Peter, call Austin to Supper, who you know promised to come to Supper with me to Day.

Pe. Soho! Poet, God bless you, Supper has been ready this good While, and my Master stays for you at Home, you may come when you will.

Au. I come this Minute.