To scud and over-scoure the earth in post
Upon the speedie wings of swiftest winds! 5
Now Bacon hath raisd me from the darkest deepe,
To search about the world for Miles his man,
For Miles, and to torment his lasie bones
For careles watching[1564] of his Brazen-head.
See where he comes: Oh, he is mine. 10
Enter Miles with a gowne and a corner cap.
Miles. A scholler, quoth you! marry, sir, I would I had bene made a botlemaker when I was made a scholler; for I can get neither to be a deacon, reader,[1565] nor schoolemaister, no, not the clarke of a parish. Some call me dunce; another saith, my head is as full of Latine as an egs full of oatemeale: thus I am tormented, that the devil and Frier Bacon haunts me.—Good Lord, heers one of my maisters devils! Ile goe speake to him.—What, Maister Plutus, how chere you?
Devill. Doost thou know me? 19