WOLSEY.
Thanks to the kind master of the Rules.
Come and sit down; sit down, sir Thomas More.
Tis strange, how that we and the Spaniard differ.
Their dinner is our banquet after dinner,
And they are men of active disposition.
This I gather: that by their sparing meat
Their body is more fitter for the wars,
And if that famine chance to pinch their maws,
Being used to fast it breeds less pain.
HALES.
Fill me some Wine: I'll answer Cardinal Wolsey.
My Lord, we English are of more freer souls
Than hungerstarved and ill complexioned spaniards.
They that are rich in Spain spare belly food,
To deck their backs with an Italian hood,
And Silks of Civil: And the poorest Snake,
That feeds on Lemons, Pilchers, and near heated
His pallet with sweet flesh, will bear a case
More fat and gallant than his starved face.
Pride, the Inquisition, and this belly evil,
Are, in my judgement, Spain's three headed devil.
MORE.
Indeed it is a plague unto their nation,
Who stagger after in blind imitation.
HALES.
My Lords, with welcome, I present your Lordships
A solemn health.
MORE.
I love health well, but when as healths do bring
Pain to the head and bodies sufeiting,
Then cease I healths.—
Nay, spill not, friend, for though the drops be small,
Yet have they force, to force men to the wall.
WOLSEY.
Sir Christopher, is that your man?
HALES.
And like your grace; he is a Scholar and
A Lingest, one that hath travelled many parts
Of Christendom, my Lord.
WOLSEY.
My friend, come nearer; have you been a traveller?
CROMWELL.
My Lord, I have added to my knowledge the low Countries,
France, Spain, Germany, and Italy:
And though small gain of profit I did find,
Yet did it please my eye, content my mind.