_Cook._ How liveth he?
_And._ Not as other men do, few Princes fare like him; he breaks his fast
with _Aristotle_, dines with _Tully_, takes his watering with the _Muses_,
sups with _Livy_, then walks a turn or two in _Via Lactea_, and (after six
hours conference with the Stars) sleeps with old _Erra Pater_.
_But._ This is admirable.
_And._ I'le tell you more hereafter. Here's my old Master, and another old
ignorant Elder; I'le upon 'em.
_Enter_ Brisac, Lewis.
_Bri._ What, _Andrew_? welcome; where's my _Charles_? speak, _Andrew_,
where did'st thou leave thy Master?
_And._ Contemplating the number of the Sands in the Highway, and from
that, purposes to make a Judgment of the remainder in the Sea: he is, Sir,
in serious study, and will lose no minute, nor out of's pace to knowledge.
_Lew._ This is strange.
_And._ Yet he hath sent his duty, Sir, before him in this fair Manuscript.
_Bri._ What have we here? Pot-hooks and Andirons!
_And._ I much pity you, it is the Syrian Character, or the Arabick. Would
you have it said, so great and deep a Scholar as Mr _Charles_ is, should
ask blessing in any Christian Language? Were it Greek I could interpret
for you, but indeed I'm gone no farther.
_Bri._ And in Greek you can lie with your smug Wife _Lilly_.
_And_. If I keep her from your French Dialect, as I hope I shall, Sir;
however she is your Landress, she shall put you to the charge of no more
Soap than usual for th'washing of your Sheets.
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