_Witty._ Nay, I'll have a bout with your Scholar too, To ask you why you should be poor (yet richly learn'd) Were no question, at least, you can easily Answer it; but whether you have learning enough, To deserve to be poor or no (since poverty is Commonly the meed of Learning) is yet to be tryed; You have the Languages, I mean the chief, As the _Hebrew_, _Syriack_, _Greek_, _Latine_, &c. _Pris. Aliquantulum, non totaliter, Domine._ _Old K._ The _Latine_ I have sufficiently tried him in, And I promise you Sir, he is very well grounded. _Witty._ I will prove him in some of the rest. _Toi[s] miois fatherois iste Cock-scomboy?_ _Pris. Kay yonkeron nigitton oy fouleroi Asinisoy._ _Witty. Cheateron ton biton?_ _Pris. Tous pollous strikerous, Angelo to peeso._ _Witty._ Certainly Sir, a very excellent Scholar in the _Greek_. _Old K._ I do note a wondrous readiness in him. _Sir Greg._ I do wonder how the _Trojans_ could hold out ten years siege (as 'tis reported) against the _Greeks_, if _Achilles_ spoke but this tongue? I do not think but he might have shaken down the Walls in a seven-night, and ne'er troubled the wooden horse. _Witty._ I will try him so far as I can in the _Syriack_. _Kircom bragmen, shag a dou ma dell mathou._ _Pris. Hashagath rabgabosh shobos onoriadka._ _Witty. Colpack Rubasca, gnawerthem shig shag._ [_Pris._] _Napshamothem Ribs[h]e bongomosh lashemech nagothi._ _Witty._ Gentlemen I have done, any man that can, go farther, I confess my self at a _Nonplus_. _Sir Greg._ Faith not I, Sir, I was at my farthest in my natural language, I was never double-tongu'd, I thank my hard fortune. _Witty._ Well Gentlemen, 'tis pity, (walk farther off a little my friends) I say, 'tis pity such fellows so endow'd, so qualified with the gifts of Nature and Arts, yet should have such a scarcity of fortune's benefits, we must blame our Ironhearted age for it. _Old K._ 'Tis pity indeed, and our pity shall speak a little, for 'em; Come Sir, here's my groat. _Witty._ A Groat Sir? oh fie, give nothing rather, 'twere better you rail'd on 'em for begging, and so quit your self, I am a poor Gentleman, that have but little but my wits to live on. _Old K._ Troth and I love you the better, Sir. _Witty._ Yet I'll begin a better example than so, here fellows, there's between you, take Purse and all, and I would it were here heavier for your sakes, there's a pair of Angels to guide you to your lodgings, a poor Gentleman's good Will. _Pris. Gratias, maximas gratias, benignissime Domine._ _Old K._ This is an ill example for us, Sir, I would this bountiful Gentleman had not come this way to day.