To pork he pleads a superstition due,
50But we subscribe neither to Scot nor Jew.
[No liquor stirs; call for a cup of wine.
'Tis blood we drink; we pledge thee, Catiline.]
Sauces we should have none, had he his wish.
The oranges i' th' margent of the dish
He with such huckster's care tells o'er and o'er,
The Hesperian dragon never watched them more.
But being eaten now into despair
(Having nought else to do) he falls to prayer.