Montaigne: Well! are fourscore few? Are we talking of peas and beans?
Scaliger: I and my father (put together) have written well-nigh as many.
Montaigne: Ah! to write them is quite another thing. How do you like my wine? If you prefer your own country wine, only say it. I have several bottles in my cellar. I do not know, M. de l'Escale, whether you are particular in these matters?
Scaliger: I know three things—wine, poetry, and the world.
Montaigne: You know one too many, then. I hardly know whether I know anything about poetry; for I like Clem Marot better than Ronsard.
Scaliger: It pleases me greatly that you like Marot. His version of the Psalms is lately set to music, and added to the New Testament of Geneva.
Montaigne: It is putting a slice of honeycomb into a barrel of vinegar, which will never grow the sweeter for it.
Scaliger: Surely, you do not think in this fashion of the New Testament?
Montaigne: Who supposes it? Whatever is mild and kindly is there. But Jack Calvin has thrown bird-lime and vitriol upon it, and whoever but touches the cover dirties his fingers or burns them.
Scaliger: Calvin is a very great man.