I have forgot to eat and sleep with reading, And all my faculties turn into studie; 'Tis meat and sleep; what need I outward garments, When I can cloathe my self with understanding? The stars and glorious planets have no Taylors, Yet ever new they are and shine like Courtiers. The seasons of the yeare find no fond parents, Yet some are arm'd in silver Ice that glisters, And sovne in gawdy green come in like Masquers: The Silk-worme spines her owne suit and her lodging, And has no aid nor partner in her labours: Why should we care for any thing but knowledge, Or look upon the world but to contemne it? _Enter_ Andrew. Would you have any thing? _Cha. Andrew_, I find There is a flie grown o're the eye oth' Bull, Which will go neere to blind the Constellation. _And_. Put a gold-ring in's nose, and that will cure him. _Cha_. _Ariadne's_ crown's away too; two main starres That held it fast are slip'd out. _And_. Send it presently To _Gallatteo_ the Italian Star-wright Hee'll set it right againe with little labour. _Cha_. Thou art a pretty Schollar. _And_. I hope I shall be; Have I swept bookes so often to know nothing? _Cha_. I heare thou art married. _And_. It hath pleas'd your father To match me to a maid of his owne choosing, I doubt her constellation's loose too, and wants nailing, And a sweet farme he has given us a mile off Sir. _Cha_. Marry thy selfe to understanding, _Andrew_, These women are _Errata_ in all Authours, They're faire to see to, and bound up in vellam, Smooth, white and cleare, but their contents are monstrous; They treat of nothing but dull age and diseases. Thou hast not so much wit in thy head, as there is On those shelves, _Andrew_. _And_. I think I have not Sir. _Cha_. No, if thou had'st thould'st nere marryed a woman In thy bosome, they're Cataplasmes made oth' deadly sins: I nere saw any yet but mine own mother; Or if I did, I did regard them but As shadowes that passe by of under Creatures. _And_. Shall I bring you one? lie trust you with my owne wife; I would not have your brother go beyond ye; Th'are the prittiest natural Philosophers to play with. _Cha_. No, no, th'are Opticks to delude mens eyes with. Does my younger brother speake any Greek yet, _Andrew_? _And_. No, but he speaks High Dutch, and that goes as daintily. _Cha_. Reach me the bookes down I read yesterday, And make a little fire and get a manchet; Make cleane those instruments of brass I shew'd you, And 'set the great Sphere by, then take the fox tayle And purg the bookes from dust, last take your _Lilly_, And get your part ready. _And_. Shall I go home Sir? My wives name is _Lilly_, there my best part lyes, Sir. _Cha_. I mean your Gammer, O thou dunderhead! Would'st thou be ever in thy wives Syntaxis? Let me have no noise nor nothing to disturb me, I am to find a secret. _And_. So am I too, Which if I you find, I shall make some smart for't.-- _Exeunt_. _Actus_ 3. _Scena_ 1. Lewis, Angellina; Sylvia, Notary.