SCENE II.
Enter the Master Cook, Butler, Pantler, Yeoman of the Cellar, with a Jack of Beer and a Dish.
Cook. A hot day, a hot day, vengeance hot day boys,
Give me some drink, this fire's a plaguy fretter:
Body of me, I'm dry still; give me the Jack boy;
This wooden Skiff holds nothing.
Pant. And faith master, what brave new meats; for here
Will be old eating.
Coo. Old and young, boy, let 'em all eat, I have it;
I have ballast for their bellies, if they eat a gods name,
Let them have ten tire of teeth a piece, I care not.
But. But what new rare munition?
Coo. Pish, a thousand;
I'le make you piggs speak French at table, and a fat swan
Come sailing out of England with a challenge;
I'le make you a dish of calves-feet dance the Canaries,
And a consort of cramm'd capons fiddle to 'em;
A calves head speak an Oracle, and a dozen of Larks
Rise from the dish, and sing all supper time;
'Tis nothing boyes: I have framed a fortification
Out of Rye paste, which is impregnable,
And against that, for two long hours together,
Two dozen of marrow-bones shall play continually:
For fish, I'le make you a standing lake of white broth,
And pikes come ploughing up the plums before them;
Arion, like a Dolphin, playing Lachrymæ,
And brave King Herring with his oyle and onyon
Crown'd with a Limon pill, his way prepar'd
With his strong Guard of Pilchers.
Pant. I marry Master.
Coo. All these are nothing: I'le make you a stubble Goose
Turn o'th' toe thrice, do a cross point presently,
And sit down again, and cry come eat me:
These are for mirth. Now Sir, for matter of mourning,
I'le bring you in the Lady Loyn of Veal,
With the long love she bore the Prince of Orenge.