ow do's my Master? _And._ Is at's book, peace Coxcomb,
That such an unlearn'd tongue as thine should ask for him!

_Co._ Do's he not study conjuring too? _And._ Have you
Lost any Plate, _Butler_? _But._ No, but I know
I shall to morrow at dinner. _And._ Then to morrow
You shall be turn'd out of your place for't; we meddle
With no spirits oth' Buttry, they taste too small for us;
Keep me a Pye _in folio_, I beseech thee,
And thou shall see how learnedly Ile translate him;
Shalls have good cheer to morrow? _Coo. Ex._ Lent, good cheer _Andrew_.

_And._ The spight on't is, that much about that time,
I shall be arguing, or deciding rather,
Which are the Males or Females of red Herrings
And whether they be taken in the red Sea onely,
A question found out by _Copernicus_,
The learned Motion-maker. _Co._ I marry _Butler_,
Here are rare things; a man that look'd upon him,
Would swear he understood no more than we do.

_But._ Certain, a learned _Andrew_. _And._ I've so much on't
And am so loaden with strong understanding,
I fear, they'l run me mad, here's a new instrument,
A metamatical glister to purge the Moon with,
When she is laden with cold flegmatick humours,
And here's another to remove the Stars,
When they grow too thick in the Firmament.

_Co._ O heavens! why do I labour out my life
In a beef-pot? and only search the secrets
Of a Sallad; and know no farther! _And._ They are not
Reveal'd to all heads; These are far above
Your Element of Fire. _Cooke._ I could tell you
Of _Archimides_ glass to fire your coals with,
And of the Philosophers turf that nere goes out;
And _Gilbert Butler_, I could ravish thee,
With two rare inventions. _But._ What are they _Andrew_?

_And._ The one to blanch your bread from chippings base,
And in a moment, as thou wouldst an Almond,
The Sect of the Epicureans invented that;
The other for thy trenches, that's a strong one,
To cleanse you twenty dozen in a minute,
And no noise heard, which is the wonder _Gilbert_,
And this was out of _Plato's_ new _Idea's_.

_But._ Why, what a learned Master do'st thou serve _Andrew_?

_And._ These are but the scrapings of his understanding, _Gilbert_;
With gods and goddesses, and such strange people
He deals, and treats with in so plain a fashion,
As thou do'st with thy boy that drawes thy drink,
Or _Ralph_ there with his kitchin boyes and scalders.

_Coo._ But why should he not be familiar and talk sometimes,
As other Christians do,