he Barks
of Trees, or Mysteries writ in old moth-eaten Vellam, he would sip thy
Cellar quite dry, and still be thirsty: Then for's Diet, he eats and
digests more Volumes at a meal, than there would be Larks (though the Sky
should fall) devoured in a month in _Paris_. Yet fear not Sons o'the
Buttery and Kitchin, though his learn'd stomach cannot be appeas'd; he'll
seldom trouble you, his knowing stomach contemns your Black-jacks,
_Butler_, and your Flagons; and _Cook_, thy Boil'd, thy Rost, thy Bak'd.

_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.

_Bri_. Take in the Knave, and let him eat.

_And_. And drink too, Sir.

_Bri_. And drink too Sir, and see your Masters Chamber ready for him.

_But_. Come, Dr _Andrew_, without Disputation thou shalt Commence i'the
Cellar.

_And_. I had rather Commence on a cold Bak'd meat.

_Cook_. Thou shalt ha't, Boy.

_Bri_. Good Monsieur _Lewis_, I esteem my self much honour'd in your clear
intent, to joyn our ancient Families, and make them one; and 'twill take
from my ag