WELL met Brother Evidence, I am glad at last that we are both in the same Predicament.

Zounds, who made me a Brother to such a profligate Wretch as thou art?

Sir, I hope 'tis not so great an Affront for a Dr. of the No­ble University of Salamanca, to call a disbanded Captain, Brother; and especially when we are so upon more Titles than one.

Pox on thy Brazen-Face. I can shew a real Commission I had from my Quondam Master for my Captainship; whereas you cannot shew the least scrap of your Diploma for your Dr's. De­gree, having never been within two hundred miles of that fam'd University.

How do you know but I had it by the Post?

Oh, oh! Good Doctor, the first Dr. of the Post, but not the first Knight of it, I am sure.

Sir, Do you call me Dr. of the Post? Remember that I was styled Saviour of the Nation, and believed by Parliaments.

A Saviour of the Nation you may be still; but you must be Crucified first, you perjured Dog; tho' three Parliaments believed you; the all-healing Parliaments that have been since this happy Revolution, refused to take off your Attainder of [Page 2] Perjury, which, be sure they would have done, had they judg­ed you Innocent, so that now you are like a Serpent whose Poyson lies in his Teeth, which after they are pulled out, every body may play with Security.

Sir, If my Breath stinks, I am sure you have foul a Mouth, and when you tell me of Crucifying, think of hanging your self, good Brother Evidence,

O how my Vallour rouses if it were not to destroy the breed of Evidences, you should quickly feel the Effects of my Resent­ments.

Your Resentments? You never durst draw your Sword in Anger, if your Enemies Sword were drawn first. I have heard you have suffered your self rather than fight, to be twang'd by the Nose.

That's one of Charnock's and my Man Key's Stories; but I think I have been even with them since.

That you have with a witness, and I believe was the first Master that ever drew in his Man to commit Treason, and after hanged him for his Pains.

No more reflections, good Dr. of the Post, my Traytors confessed their Crimes at the Gallows, and with their dying Breaths, confirmed my Evidence; but yours denyed it to the last Breath.

Good Captain B. B. Do you know the reason of it? When my Traytors suffered, the Pope was not in a Confederacy against France, and so gave them Dispensations to die with a lye in their Mouths; but being now in the Confederacy, he utterly denyed all Dispensations, and so they were forced to confess; whereas mine having it in their Pockets, died hard as they Phrase it.

Pox take your silly Reasons. I am sure you could assign better; have you forgot what you said in your Book called the Popes Ware-house, that one might have a Dispensation for most Crimes, especially Treason against a Protestant Prince for half a Crown, and a Cheap penny worth too; and you know the old Gentleman still loves Money, and would not shut up his Ware-house upon any account whatsoever; and do you think [Page 3] that neither they nor any of their party could procure half a [...]own?

what I said in my Ware-house was only a Cast of my Office, and served a turn then; for who does not reflect, that if Dis­pensations were so easy to be got, that to make Laws against the Papists, or so reputed, were but to hedge in the Cuckow, and that no Man would pay double Taxes, or want an Employment for want of an Oath, when he may be dispensed with any Per­jury for half a Crown?

What you are coming over to my Church.

Where the Devil's that?

Where a Pox is yours, Zounds, Sword draw your self, and revenge my Quarrel.

Sir, have a care of Swearing; you know the severity of the late Act.

Good wooden Dr. of the Post, keep your advice to your self, I have not sworn above twice, and it I loose time by it, I do not much value it, I have four Pounds per Week. I am sure you need not, for you have got well by Swearing. Some say three or four hundred a Year.

What's that to 40000 Pounds, that was promised me by a good many true Protestants, as I might then have kept my Coach and Six, and have had a great deal of Masculine diver­tisements. But now while I think on't, meet me at the — Ta­vern at Charing-Cross, there's a delicate Drawer, as beautiful as Ganimedes, and will end all Quarrels, you know what I mean, 'tis no small pleasure to have good Wine filled by a beautiful Hand.

I understand trap. I do not mean trap ad Crucem: This innuendo is enough; I'll be sure, and I heartily forgive you for what is past, and I could almost measure Chins with you even now for your good News.

We are not unlike in our Chins; which denotes more Cowardize than Vallour and Bravery in either of us.

I am impatient to hear your Nonsense, in Repeating such [Page 4] infamous Actions, that are enough to make a Neager Blush: Do you hear how your old friend groans for you?

Adieu, dear Brother.