ddle, and the
thing's done: but let's be handsome, shall's be Gods or Nymphs?

_Eust._ What, Nymphs with Beards?

_Cow._ That's true, we'll be Knights then; some wandring Knights, that
light here on a sudden.

_Eust._ Let's go, let's go, I must go visit, Gentlemen, and mark what
sweet lips I must kiss to morrow. [_Exeunt._

ACTUS II. SCENA III.

_Enter_ Cook, Andrew, Butler,

_Cook._ And how do's my Master?

_And._ He's at's Book; peace, Coxcomb, that such an unlearned 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 spirit o'th' Buttery, they taste too small for us; keep me
a Pie in _Folio_, I beseech thee, and thou shalt see how learnedly I'le
translate him. Shall's have good cheer to morrow?

_Co._ Excellent 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 only; 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'll run me mad. Here's a new Instrument, a Mathematical Glister
to purge the Moon with when she is laden with cold phlegmatick 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, _Cook_. I could tell you of _Archimedes_ Glass, to fire
your Coals with; and of the Philosophers Turf, that ne'er 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 Trenchers, 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