_Cow._ They are the sneaking'st things, and the contemptiblest; Such small-beer brains, but aske 'em any thing Out of the Element of their understanding, And they stand gaping like a roasted Pig; Do they know what a Court is or a Councel, Or how th' affairs of Christendome are manag'd? Do they know any thing but a tyred hackney? And they cry absurd as the Horse understood 'em. They have made a fair youth of your elder brother, A pretty piece of flesh. _Eust._ I thank 'm for it, Long may he study to give me his state. Saw you my Mistress? _Egre._ Yes, shees a sweet young woman, But be sure you keep her from Learning. _Eust._ Songs she May have, and read a little unbak'd Poetry, Such as the Dablers of our time contrive, That has no weight nor wheel to move the mind, Nor indeed nothing but an empty sound; She shall have cloaths, but not made by Geometry; Horses and Coach, but of no immortal race; I will not have a Scholar in mine house Above a gentle Reader; They corrupt The foolish women with their subtle problems; Ile have my house call'd Ignorance, to fright Prating Philosophers from entertainment. _Cow._ It will do well, love those that love good fashions, Good clothes and rich, they invite men to admire 'm, That speak the lisp of Court. Oh 'tis great Learning! To ride well, dance well, sing well, or whistle Courtly, Th' are rare endowments; that they have seen far Countries, And can speak strange things, though they speak no truths, For then they make things common. When are you married? _Eust._ To morrow, I think, we must have a Masque Boyes, And of our own making. _Egre._ 'Tis not half an houres work, A _Cupid_ and a fiddle, 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'l 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._ Cook, Andrew, Butler. And how 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.