_Pet_. _Cackamarda Orangate_, a rare Perfume I’ll assure ye, Sir. Sir _Sig_. _Cackamarda Orangate_; and ‘twere not for the Name of _Cackamarda_, and so forth, a Man had as good have a Sir-reverence at his Nose. [_Sneezes often, he crys_ bonprovache. _Pet_. _Bonprovache_--Signior, you do not understand it yet, _bonprovache_. Sir _Sig_. Why, Sir, ‘tis impossible to endure this same _Cackamarda_; why Assafetida is odoriferous to it. [_Sneezing_. _Pet_. ‘Tis your right _Dulce Piquante_, believe me:--but come, Signiors, wipe your Noses, and proceed to your giving Lesson. Sir _Sig_. As how, Signior? _Pet_. Why--present me with something--that--Diamond on your Finger, to shew the manner of giving handsomly. [_Sir_ Sig. _gives it him_. --Oh, fie, Signior--between your Finger and Thumb--thus--with your other Fingers at a distance--with a speech, and a bow.-- Sir _Sig_. _Illustrissimo_ Signior, the manifold Obligations. _Pet_. Now a fine turn of your hand--thus--Oh, that sets off the Present, and makes it sparkle in the Eyes of the Receiver.-- [_Sir_ Sig. _turns his hand_. Sir _Sig_. Which you have heap’d upon me,-- _Pet_. There flourish again. [_He flourishes_. Sir _Sig_. Oblige me to beg your acceptance of this small Present, which will receive a double Lustre from your fair Hand. [_Gives it him_. _Pet_. Now kiss your fingers ends, and retire back with a bow. _Tick_. Most admirably perform’d. Sir _Sig_. Nay, Sir, I have Docity in me, though I say’t: Come, Governor, let’s see how you can out-do me in the Art of presenting. _Tick_. Well, Sir, come; your Snuff-Box will serve instead of my Ring, will it not? _Pet_. By no means, Sir, there is such a certain Relation between a Finger and a Ring, that no Present becomes either the giving or the receiving Hand half so well. Sir _Sig_. Why, ‘twill be restor’d again, ‘tis but to practise by. _Pet_. Ay, Signior, the next thing you are to learn is to receive. _Tick_. Most worthy Signior, I have so exhausted the _Cornucopia_ of your Favours, [_Flourishes_.]--and tasted so plenteously of the fulness of your bounteous Liberality, that to retaliate with this small Gem--is but to offer a Spark, where I have received a Beam of superabundant Sunshine. [_Gives it_. Sir _Sig_. Most rhetorically perform’d, as I hope to breathe; Tropes and Figures all over. _Tick_. Oh Lord, Sir _Signal_. _Pet_. Excellent--Now let’s see if you can refuse as civilly as you gave, which is by an obstinate denial; stand both together--Illustrious Signiors, upon my Honour my little Merit has not intitled me to the Glory of so splendid an Offering; Trophies worthy to be laid only at your Magnanimous Feet. Sir _Sig_. Ah, Signior, no, no. _Pet_. Signior _Tickletext_. [_He offers, they refuse going backward_.