_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 coa.r.s.e 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. a.s.s, 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.