Slicer. Then listen. The design is by a dinner—
An easy way, you'll say: I'll say, a true.
Hunger may break stone walls, it ne'er hurts men:
Your cleanly feeder is your man of valour.
What makes the peasant grovel in his muck,
Humbling his crooked soul, but that he eats
Bread just in colour like it? Courage ne'er
Vouchsaf'd to dwell a minute where a sullen
Pair of brown loaves darken'd the dirty table;
Shadows of bread, not bread. You never knew
A solemn son of bag-pudding and pottage
Make a commander, or a tripe-eater
Become a tyrant. He's the kingdom's arm
That can feed large and choicely.
Have. If that be
The way, I'll eat myself into courage,
And will devour valour enough quickly.
Slicer. 'Tis not the casual eating of those meats
That doth procure those spirits, but the order
And manner of the meal—the ranking of
The dishes, that does all; else he that hath
The greatest range, would be the hardiest man.
Those goodly juments of the guard would fight
(As they eat beef) after six stone a day;
The spit would nourish great attempts: my lord
Would lead a troop, as well as now a masque;
And force the enemy's sword with as much ease
As his mistress's bodkin: gallants would
Owe valour to their ordinaries, and fight
After a crown meal.
Have. I do conceive
The art is all in all. If that you'll give
A bill of your directions, I'll account
Myself oblig'd unto you for my safety.
Slicer. Take it then thus. All must be soldier-like;
No dish but must present artillery;
Some military instrument in each.
Imprimis, six or seven yards of tripe
Display'd instead o' th' ensign.
Have. Why, you said
Tripe-eaters ne'er made tyrants.
Slicer. Peace, sir: learners
Must be attentive, and believe. Do y' think
We'll eat this? 'Tis but for formality.
Item, a collar of good large fat brawn
Serv'd for a drum, waited upon by two
Fair long black-puddings, lying by for drumsticks.
Item, a well-grown lamprey for a fife;
Next some good curious march-panes[138] made into
The form of trumpets. Then in order shall
Follow the officers: the captain first
Shall be presented in a warlike cock,
Swimming in white broth, as he's wont in blood:
The serjeant-major he may bustle in
The shape of some large turkey: for myself,
Who am lieutenant, I'm content there be
A buzzard only. Let the corporal
Come sweating in a breast of mutton, stuff'd[139]
With pudding, or strut in some aged carp:
Either doth serve, I think. As for perdues,[140]
Some choice sous'd fish brought couchant in a dish
Among some fennel or some other grass,
Shows how they lie i' th' field. The soldier then
May be thus rank'd: the common one, chicken,
Duck, rabbit, pigeon; for the more genteel,
Snipe, woodcock, partridge, pheasant, quail, will serve.
Hear. Bravely contriv'd!
Slicer. That weapons be not wanting,
We'll have a dozen of bones well-charg'd with marrow
For ordnance, muskets, petronels, petards;
Twelve yards of sausage by, instead of match;
And caveary[141] then prepar'd for wild-fire.
Hear. Rare rogue! how I do love him now, methinks!