Some he dry-dishes, some moats round with broths:
Mounts marrow-bones, cuts fifty-angled custards,
Rears bulwark pies, and for his outer works
He raiseth ramparts of immortal crust;
And teacheth all the tactics at one dinner:
What ranks, what files, to put his dishes in:
The whole art military. Then he knows
The influence of the stars upon his meats,
And all their seasons, tempers, qualities,
And so to fit his relishes and sauces.