Cr. My Margaret, you know we Poets are a Sort of Enthusiasts, I won’t say Mad-Men; prithee let me intreat you to let alone this Contention ’till another Time, and treat us with good Humour at this Supper for my Sake.

Ma. What does he trouble me with his Verses for?  Often when I am to go to Market he has never a Penny of Money to give me, and yet he’s a humming of Verses.

Cr. Poets are such Sort of Men.  But however, prithee do as I say.

Ma. Indeed I will do it for your Sake, because I know you are an honest Gentleman, that never beat your Brain about such Fooleries.  I wonder how you came to fall into such Company.

Cr. How come you to think so?

Ma. Because you have a full Nose, sparkling Eyes, and a plump Body.  Now do but see how he leers and sneers at me.

Cr. But prithee, Sweet-Heart, keep your Temper for my Sake.

Ma. Well, I will go, and ’tis for your Sake and no Body’s else.

Hi. Is she gone?

Ma. Not so far but she can hear you.

Mus. She is in the Kitchen, now, muttering something to herself I can’t tell what.

Cr. I’ll assure you your Maid is not dumb.

Hi. They say a good Maid Servant ought especially to have three Qualifications; to be honest, ugly, and high-spirited, which the Vulgar call evil.  An honest Servant won’t waste, an ugly one Sweet-Hearts won’t woo, and one that is high-spirited will defend her Master’s Right; for sometimes there is Occasion for Hands as well as a Tongue.  This Maid of mine has two of these Qualifications, she’s as ugly as she’s surly; as to her Honesty I can’t tell what to say to that.

Cr. We have heard her Tongue, we were afraid of her Hands upon your Account.

Hi. Take some of these Pompions:  We have done with the Lettuces.  For I know if I should bid her bring any Lettuces, she would bring Thistles.  Here are Melons too, if any Body likes them better.  Here are new Figs too just gather’d, as you may see by the Milk in the Stalks.  It is customary to drink Water after Figs, lest they clog the Stomach.  Here is very cool clear Spring Water that runs out of this Fountain, that is good to mix with Wine.

Cr. But I can’t tell whether I had best to mix Water with my Wine, or Wine with Water; this Wine seems to me so likely to have been drawn out of the Muses Fountain.

Hi. Such Wine as this is good for Poets to sharpen their Wits.  You dull Fellows love heavy Liquors.

Cr. I wish I was that happy Crassus.

Hi. I had rather be Codrus or Ennius.  And seeing I happen to have the Company of so many learned Guests at my Table, I won’t let ’em go away without learning something of ’em.  There is a Place in the Prologue of Eunuchus that puzzles many.  For most Copies have it thus: