He's well enough for me. Like Master like Man.

_If I knew what you lik'd, I would help you._

_Au._ I would cut you a Slice, if I knew what would please you. I would help you, if I knew your Palate. I would help you, if I knew what you lik'd best. If I knew the Disposition of your Palate, I would be your Carver. Indeed my Palate is like my Judgment.

_Ch._ You have a very nice Palate. No Body has a nicer Palate than you have. I don't think you come behind him of whose exquisite Skill the Satyrist says,

_Ostrea callebat primo deprendere morsu, Et semel aspecti dicebat littus echini._

_Au._ And you, my _Christian_, that I may return the Compliment, seem to have been Scholar to _Epicurus_, or brought up in the _Catian_ School.

For what's more delicate or nice than your Palate?

_Ch._ If I understood Oratory so well as I do Cookery, I'd challenge _Cicero_ himself.

_Au._ Indeed if I must be without one, I had rather want Oratory than Cookery.

_Ch._ I am entirely of your Mind, you judge gravely, wisely, and truly.

For what is the Prattle of Orators good for, but to tickle idle Ears with a vain Pleasure? But Cookery feeds and repairs the Palate, the Belly, and the whole Man, let him be as big as he will. _Cicero_ says, _Concedat laurea lingae_; but both of them must give place to Cookery. I never very well liked those _Stoicks_, who referring all things to their (I can't tell what) _honestum_, thought we ought to have no regard to our Persons and our Palates. _Aristippus_ was wiser than _Diogenes_ beyond Expression in my Opinion.

_Au._ I despise the _Stoicks_ with all their Fasts. But I praise and approve _Epicurus_ more than that _Cynic Diogenes_, who lived upon raw Herbs and Water; and therefore I don't wonder that _Alexander_, that fortunate King, had rather be _Alexander_ than _Diogenes_.

_Ch._ Nor indeed would I myself, who am but an ordinary Man, change my Philosophy for _Diogenes_'s; and I believe your _Catius_ would refuse to do it too. The Philosophers of our Time are wiser, who are content to dispute like _Stoicks_, but in living out-do even _Epicurus_ himself.

And yet for all that, I look upon Philosophy to be one of the most excellent Things in Nature, if used moderately. I don't approve of philosophising too much, for it is a very jejune, barren, and melancholy Thing. When I fall into any Calamity or Sickness, then I betake myself to Philosophy, as to a Physician; but when I am well again, I bid it farewell.

_Au._ I like your Method. You do philosophize very well. Your humble Servant, Mr. Philosopher; not of the _Stoick_ School, but the Kitchen.

_Ch._ What is the Matter with you, _Erasmus_, that you are so melancholy? What makes you look so frowningly? What makes you so silent?

Are you angry with me because I have entertained you with such a slender Supper?

_Er._ Nay, I am angry with you that you have put your self to so much Charge upon my Account. _Austin_ laid a strict Charge upon you that you would provide nothing extraordinary upon his Account. I believe you have a Mind we should never come to see you again; for they give such a Supper as this that intended to make but one. What sort of Guests did you expect? You seem to have provided not for Friends, but for Princes.

Do you think we are Gluttons? This is not to entertain one with a Supper, but victualling one for three Days together.

_Ch._ You will be ill-humour'd. Dispute about that Matter to-Morrow; pray be good humour'd to-Day. We'll talk about the Charge to-Morrow; I have no Mind to hear any Thing but what is merry at this time.

_Au. Christian_, whether had you rather have, Beef or Mutton?

_Ch._ I like Beef best, but I think Mutton is the most wholsome. It is the Disposition of Mankind to be most desirous of those Things that are the most hurtful.

_Au._ The _French_ are wonderful Admirers of Pork.

_Ch._ The _French_ love that most that costs least.

_Au._ I am a Jew in this one Thing, there is nothing I hate so much as Swine's Flesh.

_Ch._ Nor without Reason, for what is more unwholsome? In this I am not of the _French_ Man's but of the _Jew's_ Mind.

_Er._ But I love both Mutton and Pork, but for a different Reason; for I eat freely of Mutton, because I love it; but Hogs Flesh I don't touch, by Reason of Love, that I may not give Offence.

_Ch._ You are a clever Man, _Erasmus_, and a very merry one too. Indeed I am apt to admire from whence it comes to pa.s.s that there is such a great Diversity in Mens Palates, for if I may make use of this Verse of _Horace_,

Tres mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur, Poscentes vario multum diversa palato.

_Er._ Although as the Comedian says, _So many Men, so many Minds_, and every Man has his own Way; yet no Body can make me believe, there is more Variety in Mens Dispositions, than there is in their Palates: So that you can scarce find two that love the same Things. I have seen a great many, that can't bear so much as the Smell of b.u.t.ter and Cheese: Some loath Flesh; one will not eat roast Meat, and another won't eat boil'd. There are many that prefer Water before Wine. And more than this, which you'll hardly believe; I have seen a Man who would neither eat Bread, nor drink Wine.

_Ch._ What did that poor Man live on?

_Er._ There was nothing else but what he could eat; Meat, Fish, Herbs and Fruit.

_Ch._ Would you have me believe you?

_Er._ Yes, if you will.

_Ch._ I will believe you; but upon this Condition, that you shall believe me when I tell a Lye.

_Er._ Well, I will do it, so that you lye modestly.

_Ch._ As if any Thing could be more impudent than your Lye.

_Er._ What would your Confidence say, if I should shew you the Man?

_Ch._ He must needs be a starveling Fellow, a meer Shadow.

_Er._ You'd say he was a Champion.

_Ch._ Nay, rather a _Polyphemus_.

_Er._ I wonder this should seem so strange to you, when there are a great many that eat dry'd Fish instead of Bread: And some that the Roots of Herbs serve for the same Use that Bread does us.

_Ch._ I believe you; lye on.

_Er._ I remember, I saw a Man when I was in _Italy_, that grew fat with Sleep, without the a.s.sistance either of Meat or Drink.

_Ch._ Fie for Shame; I can't forbear making Use of that Expression of the Satyrist,

Tunc immensa cavi spirant mendacia folles.

Thou poeticisest. You play the Part of a Poet. I am loath to give you the Lye.

_Er._ I am the greatest Lyar in the World, if _Pliny_, an Author of undoubted Credit, has not written, that a Bear in fourteen Days Time will grow wonderfully fat with nothing but Sleep: And that he will sleep so sound, that you can scarce wake him, by wounding him: Nay, to make you admire the more, I will add what _Theophrastus_ writes, that during that Time, if the Flesh of the Bear be boil'd, and kept some Time, it will come to Life again.

_Ch._ I am afraid that _Parmeno_ in _Terence_ will hardly be able to comprehend these Things. I believe it readily. I would help you to some Venison, if I were well enough accomplished.

_Er._ Where have you any Hunting now? How came you by Venison?

_Ch._ _Midas_, the most generous spirited Man living, and a very good Friend of mine, sent it me for a Present; but so, that I oftentimes buy it for less.