"Absumet haeres caecuba dignior
Servata centum clavibus: & mero
Tinget pavimentum superbo
Pontificum potiore caenis."[1b]

"A worthy heir shall then with joy unbind
Caecubian, by a hundred locks confin'd,
And tinge with better wines the ground,
Than e'er at feasts pontifical are found."

"You see how necessary these proverbs are, to let us into the true
understanding of these two passages of this poet. Here follows, word for
word, what a certain gloss says of the last of them, _Mero dicit potiore
(meliore) caenis pontificum, quam quo pontifices in caenis suis, quae
semper sumtuosissimae fuerunt, unde nunc theologicum dicunt vinum, usi
sunt_. That is, with better wine than that which the chief priests used
at their suppers, which were always most sumptuous and expensive, and
which sort of wine we call now theological.

"By this you plainly see how much attached to divines and prelates those
gentlemen are who make profession of being expositors of the poets. But
in relation to this same theologal, or theological, I know very well
that it is a great question if it should be called _vinum theologale_,
or _vinum theologalis per appositionem_; for the wicked laity, some of
them will have it, that when these good men get tipsy they agree no
otherwise than dogs and cats. But I shall leave this dispute to be
decided by the readers. And as to these two proverbs, they put me in
mind of another, and that is, an abbot's face, which proverb being very
ancient, makes me believe that formerly the abbots had their faces
illuminated. --But without going any farther for witnesses, I shall
content myself with presenting my readers with the following piece of
antiquity, viz.

"Sanctus Dominicus sit nobis semper amicus,
Cui canimus rostro jugiter preconia nostro
De cordis venis siccatis ante lagenis.
Ergo tuas laudes si tu nos pangere gaudes
Tempore paschali, fac ne potu puteali
Conveniat uti, quod si fit undique muti
Semper erunt fratres qui non curant nisi ventres."

"O good Saint Dominic, be ay propitious,
Whose praise we daily chirp in notes delicious
From all the veins of all our hearts,
Having toss'd up some double quarts.
Therefore, if't be thy true desire,
We chaunt thy lauds at Easter quire.
Let not thy saintship think it meet
We drink from well tho' ne'er so sweet,
Liquor unworthy priest or parson,
If so, your friers will hang an arse on,