O. LUS. Ay, by my faith, you should. MRS ART. That is no wrong, which we impute no wrong! I pray you, sit. Y. ART. Gentlemen all, I pray you, seat yourselves: What, Sir Aminadab, I know where your heart is. [_Aside_. AMIN. Mum, not a word, _pax vobis_, peace: Come, gentles, I'll be of this mess. Y. ART. So, who gives thanks? AMIN. Sir, that will I. Y. ART. I pray you to it by and by. Where's Pipkin? Wait at the board; let Master Season's man Be had into the buttery; but first give him A napkin and a trencher. Well-said. Hugh, Wait at your master's elbow: now say grace. AMIN. _Gloria Deo_, sirs, proface; Attend me now, whilst I say grace. For bread and salt, for grapes and malt, For flesh and fish, and every dish; Mutton and beef, of all meats chief; For cow-heels, chitterlings, tripes and souse, And other meat that's in the house; For racks, for breasts, for legs, for loins, For pies with raisins and with proins, For fritters, pancakes, and for fries, For ven'son pasties and minc'd pies; Sheeps'-head and garlic, brawn and mustard, Wafers, spic'd cakes, tart, and custard; For capons, rabbits, pigs, and geese, For apples, caraways, and cheese; For all these and many mo: _Benedicamus Domino_! ALL. Amen. JUS. I con you thanks; but, Sir Aminadab, Is that your scholar! now, I promise you, He is a toward stripling of his age. PIP. Who? I, forsooth? yes, indeed, forsooth, I am his scholar. I would you should well think I have profited under him too; you shall hear, if he will pose me. O. ART. I pray you, let's hear him. AMIN. _Huc ades_, Pipkin. PIP. _Adsum_. AMIN. _Quot casus sunt_? how many cases are there? PIP. Marry, a great many. AMIN. Well-answer'd, a great many: there are six, Six, a great many; 'tis well-answer'd; And which be they? PIP. A bow-case, a cap-case, a comb-case, a lute-case, a fiddle-case, and a candle-case. JUS. I know them all; again, well-answer'd: Pray God, my youngest son profit no worse. AMIN. How many parsons are there? PIP. I'll tell you as many as I know, if you'll give me leave to reckon them. ANS. I prythee, do. PIP. The parson of Fenchurch, the parson of Pancras, and the parson of------ Y. ART. Well, sir, about your business:--now will I Temper the cup my loathed wife shall drink [_Aside, and exit_. O. ART. Daughter, methinks you are exceeding sad. O. LUS. Faith, daughter, so thou art exceeding sad. MRS ART. 'Tis but my countenance, for my heart is merry: Mistress, were you as merry as you are welcome, You should not sit so sadly as you do. MRS MA. 'Tis but because I am seated in your place, Which is frequented seldom with true mirth. MRS ART. The fault is neither in the place nor me. AMIN. How say you, lady? To him you last did lie by! All this is no more, _praebibo tibi_. MRS MA. I thank you, sir. Mistress, this draught shall be To him that loves both you and me! MRS ART. I know your meaning.