Pan.  Is this all they have?  Fri.  No.

Pan.  What have they besides, then?  Fri.  Beef.

Pan.  And what else?  Fri.  Pork.

Pan.  And what more?  Fri.  Geese.

Pan.  What then?  Fri.  Ducks.

Pan.  And what besides?  Fri.  Cocks.

Pan.  What do they season their meat with?  Fri.  Salt.

Pan.  What sauce are they most dainty for?  Fri.  Must.

Pan.  What’s their last course?  Fri.  Rice.

Pan.  And what else?  Fri.  Milk.

Pan.  What besides?  Fri.  Peas.

Pan.  What sort?  Fri.  Green.

Pan.  What do they boil with ’em?  Fri.  Pork.

Pan.  What fruit do they eat?  Fri.  Good.

Pan.  How?  Fri.  Raw.

Pan.  What do they end with?  Fri.  Nuts.

Pan.  How do they drink?  Fri.  Neat.

Pan.  What liquor?  Fri.  Wine.

Pan.  What sort?  Fri.  White.

Pan.  In winter?  Fri.  Strong.

Pan.  In the spring.  Fri.  Brisk.

Pan.  In summer?  Fri.  Cool.

Pan.  In autumn?  Fri.  New.

Buttock of a monk! cried Friar John; how plump these plaguy trulls, these arch Semiquavering strumpets, must be!  That damned cattle are so high fed that they must needs be high-mettled, and ready to wince and give two ups for one go-down when anyone offers to ride them below the crupper.

Prithee, Friar John, quoth Panurge, hold thy prating tongue; stay till I have done.

Till what time do the doxies sit up?  Fri.  Night.

Pan.  When do they get up?  Fri.  Late.

Pan.  May I ride on a horse that was foaled of an acorn, if this be not as honest a cod as ever the ground went upon, and as grave as an old gate-post into the bargain.  Would to the blessed St. Semiquaver, and the blessed worthy virgin St. Semiquavera, he were lord chief president (justice) of Paris!  Ods-bodikins, how he’d despatch!  With what expedition would he bring disputes to an upshot!  What an abbreviator and clawer off of lawsuits, reconciler of differences, examiner and fumbler of bags, peruser of bills, scribbler of rough drafts, and engrosser of deeds would he not make!  Well, friar, spare your breath to cool your porridge.  Come, let’s now talk with deliberation, fairly and softly, as lawyers go to heaven.  Let’s know how you victual the venereal camp.  How is the snatchblatch?  Fri.  Rough.

Pan.  How is the gateway?  Fri.  Free.

Pan.  And how is it within?  Fri.  Deep.

Pan.  I mean, what weather is it there?  Fri.  Hot.

Pan.  What shadows the brooks?  Fri.  Groves.

Pan.  Of what’s the colour of the twigs?  Fri.  Red.

Pan.  And that of the old?  Fri.  Grey.

Pan.  How are you when you shake?  Fri.  Brisk.

Pan.  How is their motion?  Fri.  Quick.