Ateu. An endlesse worke is this, how should I frame it?
They discourse priuately.
Slip. Oh Mistresse may I turne a word vpon you.
Ateu. Friend what wilt thou?
Slip. Oh what a happie Gentlewoman bee you trulie, the
world reports this of you Mistresse, that a man can no sooner 900
come to your house, but the Butler comes with a blacke Iack
and sayes welcome friend, heeres a cup of the best for you, verilie
Mistresse you are said to haue the best Ale in al Scotland.
Count. Sirrha go fetch him drinke, how likest thou this?
Slip. Like it Mistresse? why this is quincy quarie pepper
de watchet, single goby, of all that euer I tasted: Ile prooue in
this Ale and tost, the compasse of the whole world. First this
is the earth, it ties in the middle a faire browne tost, a goodly
countrie for hungrie teeth to dwell vpon: next this is the sea,
a fair poole for a drie tõgue to fish in: now come I, & seing the 910
world is naught, I diuide it thus, & because the sea cãnot stand
without the earth, as Arist. saith, I put thẽ both into their first
Chaos which is my bellie, and so mistresse you may see your ale
is become a myracle.
Eustace. A merrie mate Madame I promise you.
Count. Why sigh you sirrah?
Slip. Trulie Madam, to think vppon the world, which since
I denoũced, it keepes such a rumbling in my stomack, that vnlesse
your Cooke giue it a counterbuffe with some of your rosted
Capons or beefe, I feare me I shal become a loose body, so 920
daintie I thinke, I shall neither hold fast before nor behinde.