Co. Why hath he more bookes? And. More than ten Marts send over.
But. And can he tell their names? And. their names? he has 'em
As perfect as his pater noster, but that's nothing,
'Has red them over leaf by leaf three thousand times;
But here's the wonder, though their weight would sink
A Spanish Carrack, without other ballast,
He carryeth them all in his head, and yet
He walkes upright. But. Surely he has a strong braine.
And. If all thy pipes of wine were fill'd with bookes
Made of the barkes of trees, or mysteries writ
In old moth-eaten vellam, he would sip thy Celler
Quite dry, and still be thirsty; Then for's Diet,
He eats and digests more Volumes at a meal,
Than there would be Larkes (though the sky should fall)
Devowred in a moneth in Paris, yet feare not
Sons oth' buttry, and kitchin, though his learn'd stomack
Cannot b' appeas'd; Hee'll seldom trouble you,
His knowing stomack contemnes your blacke Jacks, Butler,
And your Flagons; and Cook thy boyl'd, thy roast, thy bak'd.
Co. How liveth he? And. Not as other men doe,
Few Princes fare like him; He breakes his fast
With Aristotle, dines with Tully, takes
His watering with the Muses, sups with Livie,
Then walkes a turne or two in via lactea,
And (after six houres conference with the starres)
Sleepes with old Erra Pater. But. This is admirable.
And. I'le tell you more hereafter, here's my old Master And another old ignorant Elder, Ile upon 'em.
Enter Brisac, Lewis.
What Andrew? welcome, where's my Charles! speake Andrew,
Where didst thou leave thy Master? And. Contemplating
The number of the sands in the high way,
And from that, purposes to make a judgement
Of the remainder in the Sea; He is Sir,
In serious study, and will lose no minute,
Nor out of 's pace to knowledge. Lew. This is strange.
And. Yet he hath sent his duty Sir before him
In this fair manuscript. Bri. What have we here?
Pot-hookes and Andirons! And. I much pitie you,
It is the Syrian Character, or the Arabicke,
Would 'ee have it said, so great and deep a Scholar
As Master Charles is, should ask blessing
In any Christian Language? Were it Greeke,
I could interpret for you, but indeed
I'm gone no farther. Bri. And in Greeke, you can
Lie with your smug wife Lilly. And. If I keepe her
From your French dialect, as I hope I shall Sir,
Howere she is your Laundresse, she shall put you
To th' charge of no more soape than usuall
For th' washing of your sheets. Bri. Take in the knave,
And let him eat. And. And drink too Sir. Bri. And drinke too Sir,
And see your Masters Chamber ready for him.
But. Come Doctor Andrew without Disputation Thou shall commence ith' Celler. And. I had rather Commence on a cold bak'd meat. Co. Thou shall ha't, Boy. Ex.
Bri. Good Mounsieur Lewis, I esteeme my selfe
Much honour'd in your cleare intent, to joyne
Our ancient families, and make them one,
And 'twill take from my age and cares to live
And see what you have purpos'd but in act,
Of which your visite at this present is
A hopeful Omen; I each minute expecting
Th' arrival of my Sons; I have not wrong'd
Their Birth for want of meanes and education,
To shape them to that course each was addicted;
And therefore that we may proceed discreetly,
Since what's concluded rashly seldome prospers,
You first shall take a strict perusal of them,
And then from your allowance, your fair daughter
May fashion her affection. Lew. Monsieur Brisac,
You offer fair, and nobly, and Ile meet you
In the same line of honour, and I hope,
Being blest but with one daughter, I shall not
Appeare impertinently curious,
Though with my utmost vigilance and study,
I labour to bestow her to her worth;
Let others speak her forme, and future fortune
From me descending to her; I in that
Sit down with silenc[e]. Bri. You may my Lord securely,
Since fame alowd proclaimeth her perfections,
Commanding all mens tongues to sing her praises;
Should I say more, you well might censure me
(What yet I never was) a Flatterer.
What trampling's that without of Horses?