From pot to spit, to kettle, stew, and pan,
The busy hum of greasy scullions sounds,
That the fixed beadles do almost perceive
The secret dainties of each others watch.
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each table sees the other’s bill of fare:
Cook threatens cook in high and saucy vaunt
Of rare and new-made dishes; confectioners,
Both pastrycooks and fruiterers in league,
With candied art their rivets closing up,