_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_.